Splinter
by Polar Thestral
Summary: Based loosely on The Snow Queen. Ch06: “This is the woman you LOVE? Merlin, I wonder how you treat the women you hate.” Hermione said. "You should know."
1. Prologue: The Day of the Roses

**Title: Splinter**

**Summary:** Based extremely (and I mean extremely) loosely on 'The Snow Queen'. This will eventually be a Dramione story, so if you don't like to sail the SS Leather and Libraries please look away now.

**Rating:** R (don't read if you are not allowed, though the R rated parts won't be for a couple of chapters yet)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine and I'm making no profit, some of the plot belongs to Hans Christian Anderson too.

_A/N: Please be gentle this is my first straight Harry Potter fanfic, but I would like to know what you all think._

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**Prologue: The Day of the Roses**

_Malfoy's always prided their family on what set them apart from everyone else. There are some things, however, that are constant across all groups of people, no matter how original they deem themselves to be. Every creed has their traditions, their beliefs and their rites of passage. Malfoy's were no different, in that they held these rites to be the very foundations of their place in the wizarding world. Generations bled into new generations, the same discourse pumping eternally through their lineage. And to a Malfoy, lineage is everything.  
  
The first great tradition came upon their birth and was simply called the blessing ceremony. The most respected members of their family along with their most important allies attended it, of course. Each would present a rose petal, pressed with a single drop of blood from their family line and they would utter a single blessing for the future of the next Malfoy heir. Malfoy's only ever had one child and to the world beyond their manor, that was indeed the greatest blessing that could ever come from such a ceremony. The petals were then placed inside a pale green pillowcase that the new child would sleep upon for the rest of his life.  
  
Whether or not these blessings had any magical impact on the reality of Malfoy lives and their destinies I cannot say, only that the tradition itself is such a strong focal point of their beliefs.  
  
Draco Malfoy was no different from any other Malfoy. He was blessed with unquenchable ambition, amorous good looks, the sharpest of slytherin cunning, the wealth of his forebears, the resourcefulness of his grandfather, the eloquence of his father, a very distinguishing taste and a proclivity for the excitement of dark magic. These were all gifts that he should pride himself on, but it is context that makes a child into a man and blessings can often be the disguise of curses.  
  
The most important rite of passage for a Malfoy occurs on their tenth birthday. It is the cusp of childhood and adolescence, when the formal wizarding educational system is about to be handed the power to teach children and alter the limited knowledge their parents have given them beforehand. It should be acknowledged that Malfoy's never take risks when their heritage is on the line, they would never let the world cloud the importance of the family and their beliefs.  
  
And so it was, six years ago to this day that Draco Malfoy faced the most powerful rite of passage he would ever encounter...  
_  
The box moved again and two pale, tiny hands baulked. His wide eyes were almost comic in their fear but his mother had learned a long time ago how to repress a laugh at the expense of Malfoy men.  
  
"Aren't you going to open it?"  
  
She made no mention of fear, as she surveyed her nails. Pretending she hadn't noticed how he was shaking as the box jumped from side to side in front of him. His little jaw set into a scowl so like his fathers that Narcissa smiled at him in encouragement.  
  
"This isn't a broomstick!" Draco's scowl deepened. It was the last present and he had still not seen the new Nimbus that his father had promised him. He tore the final bow off the box and it suddenly stopped rattling as if it knew what Draco was about to do next. Carefully he reached forward, even as his body slid backwards – he was preparing himself to run and Narcissa found it absolutely endearing. He flipped the lid with his fingers and lurched backwards. It wasn't fast enough.  
  
A creature sprung from inside the box as soon as it had the chance. Draco yelped as it landed on his chest pushing him backwards. Immediately it pounced higher and Draco tensed as the creature started to...lick...him.  
  
"Wha-oh! Mother! It's a crup!" Draco smiled at the same time he grimaced. He was lying on his back while this creature (that somewhat resembled a small jack-russel terrier) was enthusiastically attacking his lips with its rough tongue. He was giggling madly but pulling it away simultaneously since it's breath was absolutely foul.  
  
"Your father brought him home last night."  
  
"He has a Devil's tail!" Draco watched the tail flicking backwards and forwards with the crup's excitement, it's tail did indeed have a forked end.  
  
"Devil's tail indeed." Narcissa sniffed, from her straight spined position on a balcony chair. Where he got such nonsense...sometimes he talked like a house elf. Delicately she sliced another piece of veal from her plate and nibbled. Her eyes were fixed on her child complacently. "It will need to be removed of course, there are new regulations at the ministry..." Draco was too busy giggling to pay her any attention as she continued, "Apparently it resembles some muggle creature and they don't want to confuse the poor neanderthals...especially since muggles aren't exactly well- liked by crups. This new Minister is more interested in muggle concerns than wizarding ones." At this comment Draco finally looked up at her.  
  
"What a stupid law! Does Father know about that?" Draco scrunched his face up. "Stupid muggles..._I_ like his tail...at least they won't see you coming now, will they? We'll show them Sir-Licks-a-Lot." Draco looked up at her excitedly for approval only to find her raising her eyebrow in a very _disapproving_ manner. "Only joking...Nimbus it is." Narcissa smiled softly as she sipped at her tea.  
  
"Where is father?? He hasn't even seen Nimbus yet!"  
  
"Your father bought him, Draco."  
  
"_So_?" Draco frowned and stood up impatiently, Nimbus was jumping up and down pawing his legs in excitement. It was still very small, it's excited bark more of a squeak and its body mass no larger than the expanse of Narcissa's very well manicured hand.  
  
"You like him, then?"  
  
"He's all right." Draco said, still looking back at the Manor for some sign of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Better than a broomstick?"  
  
Draco scowled. "I named him Nimbus, didn't I?" Touché.  
  
"Ah. There you are, Draco." A voice spoke from just behind Narcissa. Narcissa stiffened and very slowly placed her teacup back on its saucer. A warm hand slid over her shoulder without gripping it affectionately. She turned her face toward his hand, kissing the Malfoy insignia on his ring. His fingers caressed her cheek for a moment before he pulled away. When she looked up into his face he was signalling Draco back up the stairs of the balcony, towards the a_l fresco_ breakfast that Narcissa had especially ordered for Draco's birthday. Lucius lowered himself into the chair opposite his wife and immediately picked up a copy of _The Daily Prophet_.  
  
Draco was already running up the stairs. Nimbus looked forlornly at the first step, and it took him a rather longer time to clamber up behind his even more excitable master. His tiny legs kicked and struggled against the slippery stone, but Draco paid him no mind.  
  
"Father! Did you see my Crup? Did you? He's _wicked_!"  
  
"Don't use such vulgar colloquialisms Draco, _really_." Lucius chided with a turn of the newspaper.  
  
Draco only paused for a moment, contemplating what his father meant before he shook his mop of unruly blonde hair and said, "I named him Nimbus because he's fast and he likes to yap a lot."  
  
"I didn't realise broomsticks were in the habit of talking...despite the constant yammer of their potential owners." Lucius smirked and Draco's face shone with a youthful grin that stretched across his entire face.  
  
Draco threw himself into the seat beside his father continuing his quest for attention. "Do you think we can go to a muggle village today and see if it's true? That crups can sense muggles I mean."  
  
"Aren't you already busy, Draco?" The boy frowned up at his father, eyes fixing themselves on the table as he tried to remember. "Come, come...don't tell me you forgot. That is completely unacceptable, Draco. Maybe you really aren't ready after all. That is...rather disappointing."  
  
"Yes..." Narcissa stated, suddenly perking up. "You're right, my dear. Draco should have a couple more years to mature first. A wise decision, my love." She said and smiled across the table. Lucius didn't spare her a glance, but his fingers tightened their hold on the newspaper he was reading.  
  
"No! I remember! I remember, I do! I'm not too young, _mother_, how could you say that?! I'm not a child!" Draco was almost in tears, his father wasn't even looking at him and his _mother_, his mother who he loved so dearly was calling him immature. He was a Malfoy, they should be proud of him, they would be, how could they tell him to wait a couple of years? Why were they being so cruel?  
  
Nimbus finally struggled up the last step and slowly walked over to his Master's chair, now very much out of breath. It yapped lightly, pawing at Draco's seat, but Draco pushed its tiny head away, staring up at his father with extremely worried eyes.  
  
"_Go away you stupid Crup_!" He hissed when it continued to yap. The crup pulled back several paces but continued to stare up at Draco, its tiny head crooked to the side in confusion at this new tone.  
  
"Father, I remember—I'm ten, it's my Legacy Day, you were going to take me to see grandmother, I remember, I do. You're right we can take Nimbus to town another day." He said with evident desperation.  
  
Lucius flicked his eyes up to his wife and grinned over the newspaper. Narcissa clenched her hands on the edge of the table. Of course. Mind games, she should have realised sooner. She'd said exactly what he had wanted her to say and there was no way of taking her foolish words back. Draco had the pride of his father, she should have known.  
  
"I don't know..." Lucius said slowly as he folded his newspaper and placed it to the side. He looked at Draco with intensity, his eyes running up and down the boys flushed cheeks in deep consideration. Draco brushed at the tears on his face furiously and sat up straighter, never looking away from his father's stoic gaze. "This isn't a game, Draco. How do I know you can handle it without _crying_ for your mother? Why...even she seems to think I should give you more time." Lucius looked across the table at his wife and Draco followed his gaze, glaring at his mother. One stare was taunting her, begging her to say something and help her husband's cause just a little bit more. The other look was accusing her, full of hurt and anger, how could she make him look like a fool in front of his father? He was no mummy's boy! Narcissa pressed her lips together.  
  
"She's wrong!" Draco snapped.  
  
"Don't speak about your mother like that Draco, we all make our...mistakes."  
  
"Indeed." Narcissa spoke crisply.  
  
"Choices Draco, decisions. The smallest choice can be important, for instance: how can I know you are ready for this?" Draco was fidgeting in his seat, as Lucius spoke languorously, his diamond eyes never leaving the flushed face of his wife. "Your mother may be right. I watched you through the window; you couldn't even bear to face a crup! As if you were under the impression that you, a Malfoy, could be anything less than pureblooded. That is an insult to your family name. How could I call you an adult if you're so disrespectful?" Lucius shook his head in feigned sadness.  
  
"I did open it! I did! I am proud to be a Malfoy! I'm not scared, father! Look-look!" Draco bent down and scooped Nimbus off the ground, holding the crup close to him. It proceeded to lick his damp cheeks and neck. Lucius curled his lip.  
  
"Do show some proper table etiquette before I give up on you completely!" Draco's shoulders slumped and he released Nimbus, brushing the overly affectionate crup away from him until it hit the floor beside his chair with an ungraceful thump. Narcissa closed her eyes when the creature let out a distinct yelp and backed away from his master. Draco furiously brushed his cheeks to get rid of the last tears.  
  
"Good boy." His father said with a slight grin. "I believe in giving second chances. Make no mistake, Draco, I'm not given to granting more than two. I will not have a coward as a son, nor a failure – is that clear?"  
  
"Yes, father."  
  
"You have...satisfactorily...proven yourself to me Draco, but no more than satisfactorily. I hope to see an improvement in you after today. Do you understand?" Draco nodded, holding his chin high. Lucius smiled at him without reservation and finally reached across the distance between them to ruffle his son's hair. "Good, because we're still going today. I don't think I could be cruel enough to deny you this honour." Draco grinned at him, swinging his feet beneath the table.  
  
Narcissa was by this time staring at her own hands, wanting to throttle her son for being so young and naïve, wanting to stab Lucius with her fork for being so manipulative. Those were the two traits that she usually loved about her men. Not now though. She couldn't appreciate them now. The pattern was clear: degrade until he desires to prove himself and then give him the smallest of rewarding compliments so he'll continue to chase you for more. So simple and so effectively cruel.  
  
"Narcissa, darling, please get our son ready while I finish breakfast, will you?" Lucius looked up at his wife with a charming smile, his hand resting on Draco's shoulder. Narcissa's eyes flicked between the two males in her life. One who just couldn't resist making it harder for her, the other had the most heart wrenchingly ignorant smile on his face. The young always want to grow old so fast. Too fast.  
  
"With pleasure..." Narcissa said, but her lips barely moved apart.  
  
She stood from her seat and strode through the balcony doors and into the main foyer. She could hear Draco running after her, but her legs were much longer, her steps wider apart and brisker so that he didn't catch her for a while. She led him to his own room, without looking backwards. Indeed, part of her hoped that the overwhelmingly playful side of his nature would choose this moment to emerge. Draco liked to hide from her whenever she was going to take him somewhere. On his best friend, Vincent's seventh birthday he had vanished for four hours, until she'd almost owled Auror Headquarters because she was afraid he'd been kidnapped. In reality, he'd just been hiding behind the Malfoy family tapestry, giggling to himself about all the mischief he was making. He was playful and annoying at times, indeed he was a little agitating for her delicately blueblood nerves – but at times that was also an advantage. It consumed _time_. Time! So precious that you didn't realise it was passing, until you ran out of it.  
  
When she reached his room she opened the glass doors to his balcony and stood there, framed between two whipping green curtains. It took him all of three seconds to burst into the room behind her, breathing heavily. Her eyes closed in agony, he would never hide from his father. There was no playfulness in their relationship. There was the idol and his worshipper. Draco loved Lucius too dearly and blindly. He had never wanted to irk his father for a single day of his life. How could she fault Draco for that? She had once been the same.  
  
She walked out onto the balcony, listening to Draco whine about what she had said, how embarrassing it was and...why couldn't he find his favourite robes? Narcissa looked down at the roses she'd had specifically planted beneath the railing of his balcony. Red, the darkest red there was. Almost black. She'd got them for his birthday, two years ago – they were everblooms and when it rained they hummed. Draco was scared of thunderstorms, they comforted him. He'd chosen the colour because it was so very close to black. There are no black roses she'd told him and he'd huffily said, 'they'll do.'  
  
"Draco, come here..."  
  
He walked over, holding his head high even though he was still about two feet shorter than she was. She fixed his hair and amended his robes, just like his favourites (which were unavailable since he had worn them overzealously the day _before_ his birthday). He was so handsome, just like his father. She made sure his hair was slicked back in the style his father liked best and Draco grinned at her. When his hair was off his face, his eyes stood out that much more. Such a pale blue, not even blue, more of a grey, they were almost transparent. Narcissa looked away, they were beautiful eyes – oh yes – but when she was sad and she stared into them too long she started to think of the dead. She wasn't sure why, it was probably just because she was cynical now, because she'd seen death, because she was scared that everything she loved would shrivel up and die just because of the world's spite. She knew pale eyes lose their pigmentation fast and she'd always wondered what would happen to such a delicately pale blue iris when his life was over. Would it only take moments for the shade to disappear completely, like his very soul had dissolved?  
  
She breathed in, covering the heavy sigh with her hand and trying to make sure her son didn't notice. She was being melodramatic and she hated it.  
  
"I want you to take this with you." She said and plucked a flower from the rose bed. "it looks like rain, it will comfort you." She said and then tried to attach it to the dark lapel crossing over his elegant robes. Draco jumped backwards.  
  
"_No!_ Father will see it, what will he think?"  
  
"That you're a charming gentleman. How could he think any less?" Narcissa tilted his chin up. Draco stubbornly clamped his jaw shut, and tightened his lips. She glared at him, then shoved the flower into his lapels, adjusting the petals nicely against the soft material of his robes. "Very dashing." She said, with a wink. Draco smiled crookedly at her and rolled his eyes.  
  
"I'm ready then, let's go."  
  
"No, Draco. I'm not coming with you."  
  
He frowned, but said nothing. No matter what he claimed, she was the one he cried to; if he was scared he liked to know she was around because she would hold him. His father drove his ambition, his desire to be better, but his mother let him know that it he failed it was ok. A very small part of Draco believed he was doomed to failure, it was that part of him that liked to know she would be there. His heart started to race a little louder, he looked into her eyes, then looked away and turned his back on her. He would never let her know he needed her.  
  
"I wanted to tell you something before you leave. I want you to always remember it. Do you promise me?"  
  
He shrugged, turning back to her with pronounced impatience.  
  
She walked towards him and for the first time in his life, he saw her kneel, kneel down on the ground in a very undignified manner so that she could embrace him. She was careful not to crush the rose petals, as she smoothed the baby-soft skin still present on his neck. She pulled back and touched the rose softly. He followed the movement and frowned at her. He hated hugs that weren't necessary for his own self-esteem. It all became very weak and pathetic, Draco didn't like that at all.  
  
"This flower is an immortal rose, Draco, do you know what that means?"  
  
"Of course!" He snapped.  
  
"Yes, you are a very smart boy." She clutched his shoulders. "It is only immortal so long as it stays in the ground, so long as it remains in the earth..." She moved a little to the side and gestured with her hand back to his balcony. Draco frowned, what was she talking about? "If you take it away from that...dress it up, make it something it isn't..." She touched the flower on his robes, "it cannot survive, no matter what spell you put on it." That was hardly uplifting, since she'd just said the doomed rose attached to his chest was meant to make him feel better. Draco scowled and tried to pull it free. "No. Do you know how my first magic came to be? My sister ruined my favourite part of the garden at my old home, where the gardenias grew. Somehow, I made all the flowers go back to their beds, start growing again. Just because I didn't want them to die. Flowers are beautiful, yes, but only when they're in the ground. Outside, they shrivel, become brown and limp. Dead. Nothing dead is ever beautiful, Draco, _nothing_! You'll come home tonight and we'll replant your rose together. I'll show you how. Promise me."  
  
There was a strange urgent look in her eyes. Draco wasn't sure if she was completely sane, but he was irritated with this stupid conversation so he shrugged and muttered, "Sure."  
  
Downstairs she watched Draco disappear into the Malfoy fireplace in a blaze of green flames. Lucius was standing beside her. She didn't look across at him though she could feel the heat of his gaze.  
  
"Never try to undermine me again, Narcissa. Being my wife, doesn't make you a real Malfoy. You do not understand, but perhaps you will learn to appreciate the delicacy of our traditions once you have seen everything our son will experience, every grand thing that will happen to him because of these experiences." Lucius was smiling proudly.  
  
"I don't want him to suffer, that is all."  
  
"_Suffer_? Don't speak such rubbish, woman. There is no suffering, there is no pain – I experienced it myself, I should know! You will not spoil my son's future, through your own failure to understand why this is necessary." Lucius breezed away from her in an elegant fury, snatching floo powder from where she clutched the satchel limply in her hand. He made sure to spill some of the granules up into the air so Narcissa had to turn her face away. Then he was gone in a green inferno, the air around her still sparking with his disdain.  
  
She was just as noble as her husband and she'd never partaken in anything as completely ridiculous as this tradition was. Perhaps she was overreacting, but if anyone in the ministry found out about these traditions she knew they'd see it rather differently to Lucius Malfoy. Then again, if a crup could have part of its body severed by law, how could the world ever mourn the heart of a Malfoy? They didn't even know it could exist.  
  
**TBC  
**  
_A/N The idea for Draco's crup is not mine - it's actually found in J.K Rowling's book 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them'. _

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	2. Chapter One: Learn to Hate

_Thanks for all of the reviews :) I'll reply to all of them properlly at the bottom of the page. Hope you are still reading this :) _

_A/N: The lyrics are from Silverchair's "Learn to Hate", great band, great lyrics._

**Chapter One: Learn to Hate**

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_Take the time to learn to hate  
Come and join the mass debate  
Take the time, take the time  
It's all uphill you've gotta climb._

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_It was midnight. Vague images. He was in his father's arms. His body shivered, rocked and clenched. He didn't know why. His face was wet. His hair was dry and it brushed his cheek – _tap, tap, tap_ – with the rhythm of his father's long strides. There was a weight on his chest. He could hear a noise – _tap, tap, tap_ – his eyes cracked open to watch a petal fall to the ground. He winced at the surprisingly sharp noise it made when it landed. The world swayed. His nose scrunched up in distaste, eyes screwing shut against putrid light. The petals continued to fall. A father's arm crushing a dead rose against his son's chest with those strong unflinching arms...that noise. What was that noise? _Tap, tap, tap.  
  
_"Draco!"  
  
Heels?  
  
"What have you done?!" He heard the high pitched shriek but it sounded strangely muffled and the world was turning grey and his eyes had never really been open, had they? The world was a shuddering dream. In and out of focus. Nothing to hold, only the shivering, the shaking—_  
  
"Draco!" Someone whispered. His arm was shaking...or rather _being_ shaken. He was facing the opposite direction, the direction of his clock. Those pale blue eyes opened to slits and glared at the clock which read "Go back to sleep you crazy prat!" He could hear the soft tick-like snores emanating from the device. That's it, if he's clock was bloody sleeping there was no way in hell he was getting up at this ungodly hour.  
  
The shaking continued, he groaned. "G'way..." Still, with the shaking and the hissing words that were way too loud to be whispers.  
  
Persistent bugger.  
  
Draco's cheek distorted into a sneer and he crept his hand beneath his pillow where he always kept his wand. You could never be too sure in the Slytherin dorimitory. As soon as his fingers had clenched around the cool wood, he was upright and turned around and his wand, his beautiful loyal wand was underneath the chin of a very shocked Vincent Crabbe.  
  
"Uh...." Crabbe was trying to see the wand for some indication of how exactly Draco was going to hex off his balls. Draco pressed the wand closer, twisting it between the folds of a convenient double chin.  
  
"I hope you don't have any appendages you'll miss, Crabbe, because I plan to remove every single one of them..._slowly_." A strange deep throated 'meep' escaped Crabbe. Very odd, he sounded like a strangled duck. Draco rolled his eyes, perhaps he should make it clearer that he wanted Crabbe to _speak_ so he could continue to _sleep_. "You have five seconds before I turn your face inside out. I'd hate to miss out on whatever it is you are simply dying to tell me. If your news does fail to impress me, you're going to _wish_ you were dying by the time I'm through with you."  
  
Crabbe opened his mouth and then seemed to hesitate as he looked over his shoulder toward his bed. One silver, arrow-like eyebrow lifted in response, glinting in the faint light emanating from Crabbe's bedside table. There, perched on the wooden top, was a very familiar eagle owl. Draco's forehead furrowed, the bird was cleaning its red beak with the feathers of its wing. Red? His beak's not usually...Draco's eyes fell on the hand that Crabbe was extending toward him. A piece of parchment and one severely pecked chubby finger.  
  
"You didn't bloody up my mail did you?" Draco groaned and snatched the Owl away from his friend. Draco would remember to congratulate himself later for telling his very violent owl to peck Crabbe instead if Draco happened to be asleep when an urgent message came. He watched Crabbe trot back to his bed, edging as far away from his bedside table as he could. The majestic owl stood taller as he watched Crabbe approach, following the cautious boy with his intense yellow eyes. Draco could have sworn the beast was smirking.  
  
"Come, Horatio." Draco drawled.  
  
The eagle owl looked toward him and flew the short distance between their beds to perch on one of the wooden posts. Draco placed the message down for a moment, rubbing the sleep from his pained eyes. They always stung in the morning. He looked around the emerald curtain of his bed to see that Crabbe had indeed gone back to sleep, before he reached into the satchel hanging on the side of his bed and took out a small vial of transparent liquid. Quickly and discretely he placed two drops in each eye, blinking rapidly until the liquid was spread evenly over his cornea.  
  
"As much as I respect you for trying to chew off his fingers," he continued, "you don't get a reward unless you have something else for me..." Draco looked at Horatio meaningfully, running one finger under his eyes to smooth away the excess liquid leaking down his cheeks. Horatio inclined his majestic head before swooping very low over Draco's bed, so low his master had to duck to avoid being clipped. _Arrogant prat of a pigeon_. Draco followed Horatio's flight to where he landed high on the wall, where the windows let in the barest hint of natural light. From there, the bird picked up a small package in his sharp beak and swooped back down. Draco was already smirking, already reaching out to open the drawer beneath his bedside table to remove something. Horatio dumped the package on his bed and squawked very obnoxiously in Draco's ear.  
  
"Shut up." Draco hissed back as he unwrapped the soggy material in his hand. Inside was a small mouse, freshly killed from one of the more gruesome charms Draco had been practicing. Horatio didn't seem to care that half of the mouse's skull was visible through its bloodied fur, he quickly moved forward and snatched the mouse from Draco's hand before flying up and out the window. "I'll glue that bird to his perch one day..." Draco muttered as he picked up the package Horatio had collected for him. A genuinely relieved sigh escape Draco's lips. Vanilla Frost cigarettes. Very expensive, very chic, very important to someone like Draco. Finally, he moved back to his Owl and ripped open the green wax seal.  
  
_Dearest Draco,  
  
I made certain that Horatio would bring this message to you prior to breakfast. I feared that others would learn of these events before you and cause you great distress. Your father will be free from Azkaban as of nine am this morning. I trust this news will be of no great shock to you. It is unclear to me when he will return to the manor, as he is going to tend to business affairs with your Aunt first. I will send you word express when he arrives.  
  
Be aware that some of your peers will not take kindly to this news, they will be blind to the relief of his loved ones or that their own Wizengamot found him innocent. Those fools listen to nothing above the word of Harry Potter despite all the evidence at hand to the contrary. Do not let this distress you. You know what I must ask of you, your father has been explicit in his instructions up until this point and there has been no change. It is very important, Draco, no matter how tedious you find it. For now, go to the Great Hall, enjoy your feast and our victory. Ignore everything, you are better than their snivelling whispers.  
  
Love N. Malfoy  
  
PS. I trust that Miss Parkinson will help you preserve your position in Slytherin House, correct?   
_  
He was very still, his hand automatically reaching for his cigarettes as his heart began to pound. Unconsciously, his eyes sort out the one person who would find this news very interesting indeed. The bed was empty...where...? Draco looked about the dorm room but could see no sign of Theodore Nott. That was hardly reassuring.  
  
His hands didn't shake as he proceeded to tear up the message and slide off his bed. His feet hit the floor lightly and then he was striding across the room, pulling on the clothes he'd had set out on a stool the night before, grabbing his cloak and climbing the claustrophic stair well to the Slytherin common room. He walked straight for the fire and muttered a quick 'incendio' under his breath. The fireplace sparked to life, burning steadily as Draco fed it with a little more kindling, dropping his mother's owl into the flames piece by torn up piece.  
  
His father was free and Draco was elated. He also knew that the backlash from the student body would be horrific to his campaign to get control of the younger Slytherin students. Though they might be as glad as he, the prejudice of the rest of the students was bound to get worse in the current atmosphere. The younger students would be harassed and ridiculed for the Death Eater spawn that they were. They would start to resent Draco for exposing creatures, who so adored the stealth and shadow, to the garish light. All a slytherin wanted was to be assured of their own safety, their own place – they cared little for the trials of others. They would turn on him, hissing and spitting if they were threatened and he knew exactly who they would turn to. His eyes narrowed with distaste. Theodore Nott. He hated that boy: always plotting, creeping up behind him, the _silent achiever_...it was proving deadly to Draco's cause and now Nott had the perfect chance to seize complete control. This ruined everything.  
  
Draco tore open the small white package in his hands, muttered a quick charm and then there, finally, right there against his lips...ecstasy. Draco breathed through his mouth, virtually sucking the very sap from the cigarette between his fingers. He felt the cool shiver trickle down his chest into his lungs and his spine almost arched with exhilaration. He hadn't had a smoke for three days. Never a good idea to run out when he needed them. He usually kept a rather large stronghold, but the junior slytherins had been pissing him off so much lately that he was very rarely seen without a cigarette stuck to his lower lip. It was hardly his fault that they were so damn annoying. He inhaled again, shaking a lock of white blonde hair from his eyes. As he exhaled a cloud of chilled white air, he chuckled. No matter how many times he smoked vanilla frosts, he always found it amusing that you needed to burn the cigarette to smoke it, yet inside his body the smoke froze and was exhaled like a particularly cool winter wind. Like...magic.  
  
"Draco!" He heard the high pitched call behind him, heard her footsteps padding up the last few steps, treading softly across the cool ground. He didn't turn his head, he continued exhaling those gentle puffs of winter, watching his mother's letter burn through a cloud of ice. "Draco...?"  
  
_"Draco! Draco! Lucius, what you have done?! He's bleeding!" A struggle. The scraping of heels against the floor. A slap of flesh and then the creak of doors sliding closed steadily.  
  
"Never raise your hand to me again." The measured ice of his father's tone, the power of it – they called to Draco like nothing else could. The prickle of awareness rushed through Draco, awareness of true power, of true force. Draco craved to be like that man, he'd spent his whole life strutting around in the shadow of a Wizard he could never hope to be. Or maybe, he simply had to learn...  
  
Draco opened his eyes groggily and looked across at the doors to his quarters. They weren't closed completely and he could barely make out his mothers pale face looking lividly up at a figure he couldn't discern.  
  
"You told me he wouldn't suffer."  
  
"And so he hasn't." The warning was still there in his father's voice. Narcissa hesitated; she shifted on her feet before raising her chin and refusing to back down. Lucius chuckled mirthlessly and gripped the side of Narcissa's face. Draco didn't flinch. He didn't realise he was sliding from his bed, creeping forward, softly across the carpet toward the slight crack between the double doors. He was breathing deeply mesmerised by his father's control.  
  
"I never thought you'd stoop to this! He already adored you!" She hissed trying to pull away, Lucius merely raised his other hand softly so her face was uncompromisingly trapped in his hands. She flinched and closed her eyes tight. Lucius must have applied a faint pressure because in the next moment Narcissa bit her lip and opened her eyes wide to stare up at him.  
  
"Hold. Your. Tongue. Before you make me angry. I so detest being angry with you, my beautifully cold, Narcissa." His drawl was biting and Draco flinched from the anger just beneath the surface. Narcissa didn't bat an eyelash, but Draco was close enough to hear the unevenness in her breath now.  
  
"Did he...was he...in obvious pain?" Narcissa asked. Lucius shook his head, a decidedly smug grin spreading across his face. Pride. Something inside Draco prickled with excitement, his father was proud of him.  
  
"No pain." Lucius whispered to her.  
  
"You should have just said so. How did you expect me to react when I saw him?"  
  
"I expected a little dignity, a little respect, a little common sense. Those traits which you have exhibited every moment of your life until now." Narcissa looked down in shame but Lucius quickly pulled her chin back up, steadily meeting her embarrassed gaze. "He is prepared now. Nothing Dumbledore will say can turn him, he is protected from that muggle-loving fool's propaganda. Does that give you comfort?" Narcissa nodded very slowly. "I will not let my son slip through my fingers and be taught to dismiss our culture as nothing important enough to preserve. I will not let him be infected by—"  
  
"He's too intelligent to be manipulated in such a way." Narcissa contradicted. Lucius's face contorted, his mouth curled into a snarl.  
  
"He was a _child_; a mother is always blind to the faults of her own child."  
  
"He is _still_ a child! I don't happen to see that as such a horrible thing. He is our child, or did you steal that from him too?"  
  
"Everything I have done, I have done for you and our son. Everything! Why else do you think I have risked my life?" Lucius actually growled at her but the sound was cut off be her angry reply.  
  
"You do it for yourself! It's always been for you, I'm here for you, your trophy, like all your other collectables and Draco's nothing more than—" Her mothers protests were cut off when Lucius pulled her violently forward and kissed her. Draco stepped backwards with a scowl. Lucius was kissing her so deeply and with such force that his son was extremely embarrassed. No child wants to see that. He was not used to seeing his parents being so emotional. The fact that those emotions came out because of him was something Draco didn't completely understand, but the small intuitive part of his mind was constantly whispering that this was a good thing. It could be manipulated and controlled.  
  
Narcissa's struggles quickly ceased and then she collapsed against her husband's chest with an audible sigh, her body melted into him, holding his forearms as he cupped her face. When he finally removed his face from contact with hers, her lips were strangely blue and her eyes dark and intensely staring at him.  
  
"_Everything_ I do is for you." He whispered intensely. She nodded, understandingly, winding her arms around him to hold him in a close embrace. "Let our son rest, he has done well today."  
  
Lucius moved slightly so Narcissa's back was facing Draco. Draco's eyes slowly rose, up the curve of her spine, to her shoulder where Lucius was resting his head. Blue eyes pierced Draco knowingly, their clarity and force made Draco blush in embarrassment. Lucius was completely aware that Draco had been watching them the entire time. He smirked at his son indulgently, playing with his wife's hair. Narcissa sighed contently and nestled closer to her husband's body. Lucius smirked again and then turned to escort his wife away. She made no protest.  
  
It was only as Draco closed the door that he realised what those secretive smiles he exchanged with his father really meant.  
  
His mother was the weak one. His mother was the one who had lost control and let those horrible emotions consume her. His father....his father had simply been controlling her. Steadying her, bringing her back to what a proper Malfoy woman should be. Draco grinned as he walked toward his mirror. It all came so easy to him, all these people would crawl for Lucius Malfoy, crawl and lick and simper like dogs. His father amazed him, how he talked and moved and held himself, how everyone believed him because his words were full of such sincerity, his face so steady. Draco was told he looked just like his father, his mother whispered into his hair that one day he would be as great. One day. Today he'd taken a great step in that direction.  
  
Draco stepped in front of his mirror and smiled before he even locked eyes on the reflection. The smile quickly fell away as if it had been chipped from his features with the sudden crunch of an ice pick. He paused for a moment and started to shake, he heard a shocked gasp and knew it had come from the panels of glass in front of him rather than his own lips. It couldn't be real; the mirror was playing a trick. This could not be his reflection, it could not. Draco backed away and touched his face feeling the damp liquid that stained his cheeks, feeling the horrid ugliness that had taken over his skin. He looked down at his shaking hands, looked down once he'd felt the liquid moving between his fingers, looked down to see it with his own eyes. Red and thick and covering his alabaster skin with a horrible sticky warmth. 'he's bleeding' his mother had hissed. Bleeding. He placed his hands back on to his face, to ground himself, to understand that blood really was all over his cheeks. He stumbled backwards and screamed. Screamed and screamed with no intention of stopping._  
  
Warmth on his cheek. Her hand. Draco turned his cheek slightly to acknowledge her, exhaled a white cloud of chilled air at her. Pansy smiled and shivered in the sudden chill. Her body drew closer to him, which probably wasn't a good idea considering the source of that chill.  
  
"Are you ok, Drake?" Pansy whispered simperingly into his shoulder blade. Draco sighed and ran the cool fingertips of his hand across the skin of her forearm. "Your mother owled me. She sounded concerned."  
  
"I feel like I've fallen for a wronski feint, but aside from the cracked ribs and internal bleeding I'm just dandy."  
  
"Don't say dandy, you don't pull it off." She whispered seriously. Draco looked over his shoulder at her incredulously and she laughed, wrapping her arms around his body. "He's free. You've been saying for months you wanted him back, you should be happy. Your happiness is all that matters."  
  
Draco scoffed and pulled her arms away, whirling around in his long black cloak to glower over her in a fierce temper.  
  
"_All that matters?_ Everything we've worked for is ruined! Everyone in the school will know that my Father's eloquence and his expensive litigation team is all that saved his wonderfully slippery hide again. Don't get me wrong, I'm exceedingly happy for the old bastard, but I bet he is just smirking smugly because his freedom has come at the optimum time to completely destroy all of our progress. He raves on and on about my success, but it only matters when it comes on his terms and he has had no hand in this...of course he would want to take it from me." Draco whined, kicking the nearest piece of furniture which just happened to be a coffee table. It flipped over and went soaring four metres away.  
  
Pansy bit her lip and watched as the table flipped itself up the right way again and proceeded to rattle away on its four legs indignantly.  
  
"It is selfish of him, but Draco don't get all stroppy. This is nothing, you'll see. What has it to do with us?"  
  
"Absolutely nothing, which of course means that to everyone in this wretched school it will somehow be our fault that he's free. Lower your I.Q and think like a Gryffindor. Dumbledore will be watching me closely for correspondence with my family, as if Father would actually be fool enough to contact me himself. The Dark Lord will know about the increased security, who do you think he'll choose as recruitment officer? Slytherin's don't take foolish chances. I bet Nott's going to hardly be able to contain his need to wet himself at breakfast."  
  
"It will pass." Pansy whispered, slipping her hands beneath the edges of his cloak so she could stroke the smooth cashmere sweater underneath. Draco's forehead was still furrowed in deep thought. He either ignored or didn't notice her sudden affectionate caressing.  
  
"If it doesn't stop, we'll have to...shift the attention." Draco smirked as a million equally malicious ideas flitted through his mind. Pansy frowned and sighed impatiently, withdrawing her hands from his cloak with unnecessary violence. Her nails scratched along his skin and Draco scowled at her.  
  
"It's for us." He said. "Our future starts now." He whispered to her, his voice intent, reassuring. He reached out and cupped her face, kissing her imploringly as he softly twirled one lock of dark hair around his finger. His mouth was so cool but he tasted wonderful, like rain and vanilla. His mouth was quickly warming up through the caress of hers. Too soon he pulled away.  
  
"Mmmm. You taste nice." She whispered against his lips. He grinned rakishly, moving the cigarette still clutched between his hands back to his lips. She smiled as he dramatically inhaled just to please her.  
  
"Yet another reason not to kick my bad habit."  
  
"Could I try one of those?" She asked tentatively. Draco chuckled, exhaling in short puffs of ice against her cheek.  
  
"You don't want to try one of these, they're dangerous." He flicked it away toward the fire. When it made contact with the flames a loud crack was heard and the cigarette exploded in a quick burst of blue fire. Pansy jumped and Draco chuckled mirthlessly against her ear.  
  
"I put up with you and _you're_ dangerous." She said, pouting childishly. Sensing another outburst Draco leant forward and brushed his lips against hers teasingly.  
  
"Trust me. You _are_ a vanilla frost, you don't need to smoke them." He grinned and Pansy rolled her eyes to cover the sudden blush invading her cheeks.  
  
"You want to smoke me?" She asked with a provocative raise of her eyebrow. Draco tilted his head in consideration.  
  
"Haven't I already done that?" Pansy's face went so red he could have mistaken her for a Weasley. "Just trust me. I'd never want you hurt." The sincerity of his voice made her need to look away, so intense were her feelings for him. "Now go get dressed, we have to make an appearance at breakfast."  
  
She looked shocked. "But—"  
  
"Go. Get. Dressed."

**TBC**

_A/N: Sorry about the Pansy/Draco stuff. It's necessary. I didn't want her to be two dimensional, that's all. I promise that Hermione will be the main focus of the next part. Hope you're still read then!_

One: Thanks for the ego stroking, I was smug for about ten minutes - a new record. I don't have that many HP ideas, but when I do think of them I shudder at the thought of writing them. J.K is one giant monkey on the back, there's no competing with her. lol Funny that you should mention Jane Austen because she's actually where I got the idea from. I put that section in italics because I really just used it as a transitional device - it will only be at the beginning and the end, after all this IS based on a fairy tale, why note use a fairy tale style? Draco was a complete suck in the first chapter, it was painful to write, but he is in awe of his father...thankyou so much for taking the time to read this btw. Hope you keep doing so.

Snow-Queen1: What an appropriate name!! Haha. Thankyou for adding me to your favourites, I hope you liked this chapter.

IHeartDrakieRonnie: Thanks so much, I wanted to do something different with the Malfoy's. I do think that if Lucius was in any way abusive to his family it would be mental, so I didn't want to write him as a violent person...although I'm sure he would be capable of that given the necessity for it.

Kyra4: Thanks for adding me to your favourites. That's lovely. I hope you're still enjoying the story. Sorry there hasn't been any Draco/Hermione interaction, but there will be. Hermione will be the focus of the next chapter. Hope you like how Draco turned out and don't hold his smoking habits against me, hehe.

halo-effect: Cool name. Thanks so much, I usually don't get called an intelligent writer so I was really flattered by your review. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to offer any criticisms you have whatsoever.

Love B xxx


	3. Chapter Two: Whispers

_In case you guys are wondering, yes I do love Silverchair, that's why their lyrics keep popping up at the start of my chapters. This chapters song is 'Miss you love'. As usual, replies to those kind people who reviewed will be found at the bottom of the chapter. This chapter is for Tara, who probably won't read this, but since she put up with my prattle and helped me iron out details of the plot it's only fair :) A million kisses from Lucius for your troubles oh fair one :)_  
  
**Chapter Two: Whispers**  
  
_I'm not, not sure, _

_Not too sure how it feels _

_To handle everyday _

_Like the one that just past _

_In the crowds of all the people _

- Silverchair

* * *

It was a very ordinary day. The Great Hall was filled with mostly mindless chatter – hardly anyone even bothered to make an attempt at an intelligent conversation. It was way too early and they didn't have enough caffeine in their systems. Most students had yet to reach the age when Monday mornings were considered a good thing. In fact, most people in the Great Hall would deny the existence of such an age – they'd claim that it wouldn't matter if they were twelve or thirty, they'd still hate every chilly morning that made them arise from the comforting embrace of a warm bed. Especially if the need to rise had anything to do with Professor Snape.  
  
Perhaps Everyone's mornings weren't quite that bad. Not everyone had to put up with snarling, glaring, general unnecessary favouritism, bigotry and a rather dramatic obsession with twirling one's cape forbiddingly. But for Hermione Granger, this was how every week started. Such an ominous note was bound to have repercussions on the rest of her week, semester and school year.  
  
The sixth year Gryffindor girl sighed as she looked toward the Professors table. There he was, still batlike with a hooked nose and shrewd black eyes. At that moment he was conversing rather intensely with Minerva McGonagall (the Professor of Transfiguration and Head of Hermione's Gryffindor house) and Albus Dumbledore (newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts, newly reinstated head of the Wizengamot, newly reinstated recipient of the Order of Mer—).  
  
Her scrutiny of the discussion was cut short by a strange sound to her right. "Wha—Neville!" Hermione's eyes widened in shock to see one of her fellow house mates collapsed face first into his bowl of blueberry porridge. She shook his shoulder, but the only indication that he was still alive was his content snoring. She turned to the chuckling girl on her left. "Ginny, someone cursed Neville, did you see—"  
  
"No, they didn't." Ginny laughed.  
  
"Jus' lee 'im." Ron slurred through a mouthful of food.  
  
"What?" Hermione frowned across the table at him.  
  
He swallowed.  
  
"Leave him. He'll thank you for it, believe me." He then continued to pile his plate with a rather large assortment of fruit, bread and sausages.  
  
Hermione grimaced in disgust as she saw the juice from an orange slice dribble along his bacon strips. Ron didn't seem to care that foods, which by cardinal law should never touch, were all thrown haphazardly together on his plate. He picked up his cutlery, grinned with masculine triumph and proceeded to scoop it all into his mouth at a rather alarming speed.  
  
"Slow down a bit Ron, you're frightening the pancakes." His sister laughed as she sipped her pumpkin juice. Ron's head snapped up, a piece of bacon hanging over his lip.  
  
"Ancaes?" He mumbled. Eyes darted over the table as if he hadn't seen food in days (his plate was clearly protesting against that reasoning however).  
  
A pretty blonde girl to Ron's left indicated a plate and Ron grinned with triumph. "Thanks Lavendar." He quickly stood up and scooped the pancakes on top of the orange, on top of his bacon, on top of his eggs and sat back down on the bench. "Has anyone seen the—oh thanks, Gin."  
  
Ron reached across the table to where his sister was sitting to remove the jar of strawberry jam from her hand. She was smirking at him with familial amusement. Ron's appetite was legend even amongst the Weasley household.  
  
Neville was still snoring contently in a cushion of congealed oats, Hermione was too shocked by Ron's behaviour to bother trying to wake the boy up again. Ron spared him a brief glance before he smeared the jam messily on his pancakes and continued guzzling like a true glutton.  
  
Ginny looked around Hermione's curly locks than whispered into her ear, "he won't drown will he?"  
  
Hermione followed her gaze. "I don't think so, the liquid is too dense."  
  
"Just leave him then, serves the git right." Ginny laughed.  
  
"I'd ask why Neville's so tired," Hermione continued loud enough for Ron to hear, "but Dean and Seamus are nowhere in sight and Ron seems to have regressed to the intelligence of a Neanderthal."  
  
"Wahootay?" Ron said through a mouthful of food.  
  
"Point proven." Hermione raised an eyebrow disapprovingly before her entire face melted down into a frown. Ron gulped.  
  
"Settle down," he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robes, "I've had about two hours sleep you do not want to aggravate me this morning."  
  
Ginny smiled at him mischievously, "don't worry Ron, I think everyone has seen you on your menses before."  
  
"WHAT?! _Ginny_!" Ron hissed.  
  
Parvati and Lavendar laughed into their pumpkin juice, discreetly avoiding the glare that Ron was shooting in their direction.  
  
"There's no need to keep it a secret, Ron," Ginny continued. "Everyone here has been confronted with your mood swings on many occasions. Embrace the hermaphrodite within."  
  
A couple of people tapped their spoons on the table as if to say 'here, here' and Lavendar was now struggling to keep the pumpkin juice inside her mouth.  
  
Ron scowled and mumbled something.  
  
"What was that, Ronald?" Ginny inquired sweetly.  
  
"I said, I think Harry knows more about mood swings than I do." Ron's eyes quickly flicked to Hermione's face, but averted even more quickly when he saw that the scowl had yet to fade. Hermione's facial features were taut and pale; she said nothing though Ron could see she badly wanted to. Instead, she turned to Neville and pulled back on his shoulders until his head was safely out of the bowl, then she let him fall back onto the table, clear of his breakfast but still snoring contently.  
  
Hermione had been continuously telling Ron over the last couple of weeks that Harry's temper was not his fault, they should let him be how he needed to be to deal with Sirius's death, show him some compassion. This had caused many arguments between the already frequently squabbling friends. Ron insisted that she had no idea what she was talking about since she didn't have to sleep next to him all night. Or rather...she didn't have to NOT sleep. The thought made Ron chew on his meal more slowly. Hermione would have definitely severed several parts of Ron's anatomy if she knew _everything_ about the Harry situation.  
  
"We've got Herbology with Sprout in fifteen minutes, maybe we should wake him up," said Lavendar as Hermione poked Neville experimentally in the side. He mumbled something incoherently and Hermione had to bite back a smile. He looked as if his breakfast had tried to eat _him_ for a change.  
  
"Ok, Ron, what's with Neville?" Hermione asked. "Surely he couldn't be this tired."  
  
"None of us got any sleep last night. Last night was...bad. Dean and Seamus were still sleeping when I left. Lucky gits."  
  
"And Harry?" Hermione asked nervously.  
  
"He's what kept us up all night."  
  
Ginny smiled, "Dean didn't tell me you were all so _close_, I'll remember to spend more time in your dormitory if things are that _friendly_. _Rowr_." Ginny laughed at Ron's appalled face. His ears went red and he actually growled at her. He was way too tired to have his manhood threatened by his most annoying sibling (well...since he didn't really consider Percy a 'sibling' anymore).  
  
"Shut up or I'll tell everyone here what Ginny really stands for."  
  
Ginny flushed. "You wouldn't dare!"  
  
"Are you sure about that Gin—"  
  
"The bat-bogie hex will be the least of your concerns! I promise swift retribution if that name comes anywhere near escaping your lips!" She hissed in panic. Ron smiled at her.  
  
"Doesn't it stand for Virginia?" Hermione asked Ron in interest.  
  
Ron winked at her with a satisfied chuckle. Hermione paused. Unfortunately for him, he missed the shocked flush encasing Hermione's cheeks. He was too caught up in Ginny's livid glare as she mimed cutting her own throat. _Tell her and die_, Ginny's eyes were chanting viciously, but he had pretty much already translated that message from her hand signals. Nasty. It would be worth it though. Ron looked over at Hermione again, expecting to see a maddeningly inquisitive look on her face (she hated not knowing something that Ron did), instead he found her looking away. She was pretending to inspect Neville's slow progress to the bottom of his bowl. Ron was completely clueless if he hadn't realised what he could do to her heart sometimes without even trying.  
  
"Did he..." Hermione coughed. "Did...Harry have another nightmare?"  
  
She shouldn't have asked really. Harry hadn't had a 'peaceful' sleep for well over two months. She'd originally tried to persuade him to ask Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey for some dreamless sleep potion but Harry had reacted so violently against the idea that Hermione assumed she had insulted him in some way. Harry had become a sore spot with Ron and her too. They barely saw him and when they did he was never really there. Harry didn't sleep, he screamed and twisted and begged for mercy from a force that none of them could protect him from. When they asked him what was happening he simply shrugged and ignored them. The morning light brought shame and anger for Harry, he was frustrated for a weakness marked by a lightning bolt scar, a scar that none could blame him for having. He never told them what he was seeing, whether it was Voldemort, guilt or bad memories. His friends protested that they could help him cope; they all were partially glad that he refused to confide. What could they say that would take away some of his pain? No one felt comfortable asking him any more. Ron originally had felt torn up with guilt and worry for letting Harry slip so far out of his reach. Then he was just annoyed.  
  
When you don't get any sleep for two weeks it's hard to be compassionate. So Ron had copied his friends and put silencing charms on his bed. He felt guilty at first because Harry was suffering alone, but it was hard for Ron to be compassionate when he had pillowcases under his eyes big enough to support Hagrid's head. This had gone on for a couple of weeks until McGonagall had happened to overhear Neville and Ron talking about it. She had dragged Ron into her office and severely chastised him. She reminded him that Harry's distress had saved his own father's life and if Ron was thinking of abandoning Harry to suffer alone then he was not a real friend. Ron had been speechless for hours and when he finally talked it was to tell his roommates that there were to be only two sleeping charms each night. Two of them every night would be there, listening to every moment, ready if he needed them.  
  
"What would happen if you-know-who tried to possess him? How would we know? What if he has another vision? Or hurts himself? How can we just close the curtains around our beds and pretend it isn't happening? He needs to know we're there for him and if that's all he needs, then stop complaining! That's easy. If any one of you guys has a different opinion on that matter, I have more than one brother willing to help me _convince_ you." Ron had stood over them as much as he could. It was hard for him to intimidate people who had helped him collect cards from chocolate frogs and witnessed him unwrapping a Weasley jumper every year. It just had to be done. Seamus, Neville and Dean had simply nodded. Who would have the gall to argue? Seamus was especially adamant considering he'd all but called Harry insane the year before and had much to atone for.  
  
Harry knew none of this. Nor did Hermione. Ron was too ashamed to tell her that he'd held sleeping in higher regard than Harry's well being.  
  
Neville and Ron had been on 'Harry watch' on this occasion, but apparently the screams had been so horrible that Dean and Seamus had got no sleep either. Silencing charms can only do so much when you're still an amateur wizard.  
  
"Is Harry still sleeping?" Hermione annoyingly persisted. Ron suppressed a groan, she was using that voice that made him think of chalkboards, nails and bludgers. All having a party in his head.  
  
"Harry doesn't sleep. Not really. I only got to sleep at about 5am this morning. Which probably means he wasn't in the room then. Took off is my bet. I woke up and he was gone. _Again_." He said bitterly.  
  
Hermione frowned. "I'll talk to him in Potions. He was probably just flying."  
  
"When you see him tell him McGonagall is after his hide. She ambushed me this morning demanding to know why he had skived off her last four lessons. I didn't know, which made her more mad and you know what that woman's like – _complete_ harpy. I swear she would have given me a detention if she hadn't needed me for this Friday's Quidditch game. Told me so too."  
  
"Don't call Professor McGonagall a harpy, Ron, it's completely disrespectful."  
  
"Yet so true." Ron heard Lavendar mutter. He smothered a grin with his hand before replying.  
  
"Glad to know I'm able to articulate my feelings."  
  
It was Ginny's turn to choke on her pumpkin juice, she was not very good at hiding the hearty giggle, but with the juice still present it sounded like a hacking cough under water. When she regained control of herself she actually had to wipe tears from her eyes. Ron had resolved to ignore her somewhere during breakfast obviously because he didn't even bother to glare.  
  
"Doesn't anyone else find it a bit off that he is avoiding Transfiguration like a bludger to the head, yet he's still going to Potions? If there was any indication he's completely mental – it's that."  
  
"Maybe Transfiguration reminds him too much of—"  
  
Ron scoffed. "And potions wouldn't? You should hear the things he mutters about Snape when he's sleeping, Hermione. Let's just say _The Daily Prophet_ would have loved to sick that Skeeter wench on him this year."  
  
Ginny glared at her brother and leaned closer to him. "Don't you go saying stuff about Harry for what he says in his sleep. You don't even know if it's _him_ thinking those things. I know what it's like to lose control of yourself to that...thing...Harry is helpless in his dreams! So just you shut up Ronald Weasley!"  
  
"Shhh..." Hermione said to try and calm them down. The concept of 'calming down' however was a bit foreign in a Weasley feud and Ron was not to be outdone.  
  
"It's him alright, I doubt you-know-who's first choice of weapon would be a Firebolt, and if it _was_ he certainly wouldn't be that imaginative with it." Ginny screwed up her nose in confusion. Ron grinned mirthlessly and returned to his breakfast.  
  
"Now don't yell at me Hermione but I'm starting to think Harry is only going to Potions because he's waiting for an...opportunity."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, she'd heard this one before, right before she'd whacked him with a copy of _'Know thy Kneazle'_ if she remembered correctly.  
  
Ginny chuckled. "What for? to declare his undying love for the hooknosed bat? You're a stupid git Ronald Weasley!" Whenever she was mad she seemed to find it necessary to say his entire name, perhaps she thought he'd be confused about whom she was addressing.  
  
Ron turned to her in exasperation "what is with you and the sex jokes this morning?"  
  
"Unlike you, I had good dreams." Ginny replied, exaggerating her movement as she bit down on the end of a carrot and smiled mischievously at him. Ron absorbed that for a moment before he made a sound of disgust and shoved his plate away. Hmm, it seemed there was a way to kill his raging appetite.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione snapped and he looked at her again, finally coming back to their conversation. She was almost sad to have his attention fixed on her again. Ginny had made his eyes come alive, now they shaded with worry and fatigue. Too late to turn back now.  
  
"I know you disagree with me, Hermione, but—"  
  
"Harry isn't completely daft. He'd never attack a teacher, especially one of the _special_ teachers." She intoned meaningfully.  
  
"You don't know Harry, Hermione. He'll never be the same as he was before—"  
  
"What makes you an expert!? At least I'm trying to understand what he's going through you blockheaded prat! All you seem to be interested in is making out that he's about five sleepless nights away from a Hogwarts massacre!"  
  
"Merlin! There's no talking with you in this mood!"  
  
"What mood? The rational one? You're right I should bash my head against a wall for a couple of minutes and bring myself down to your level!" Her eyes shot fire at him, fire he was gladly returning as his blue eyes darkened and his cheeks turned red.  
  
"My level....don't you call me stupid you snotty little—" But whatever he was about to say was thankfully cut off by a very loud snore from Neville. Several sticky clumps flew up into the air from the corner of his mouth. One of those clumps landed in Hermione's hair as she continued to rail at him. Ron's anger dissolved and he burst into laughter.  
  
"WHAT?!" She hissed. Ginny twirled her hair subtly, until Hermione followed Ron's line of sight and began to run her hands through her own hair. "Oh drat!" She said as she came across the gooey clump in the process of cementing her already knotty hair together. "I just hope your well rested Neville Longbottom!" Ginny's condition must be catching. Hermione pulled her wand out of the front pocket of her robes and pointed it right at Neville's drooling mouth, "_Enervate!_"  
  
The charm, when combined with her frustration, was so strong that Neville immediately shot up from his position and mumbled "But I don't like Trevor that way Grandma!!" His knees hit the table and then he fell over backwards onto the floor. For several moments he was frozen in shock, staring up at the cloudy sky charmed into the Great Hall's ceiling. Sticky clumps of congealed oats dribbled from his face onto the floor in soft plopping noises. There was a stunned pause before the whole hall burst into laughter, even Hermione who was trying to keep her voice steady while she simultaneously whispered '_scourgify_' and pulled him to his feet – face now clean. It seemed Neville was too tired to care that for the rest of the year people would be politely inquiring whether or not he more strongly recommended the creamy honey or blueberry porridge as the best place for a quick nap.  
  
The sound of flapping wings could be heard approaching, then the call of more than three dozen owls. Hermione looked up at the same time as most students, waiting patiently for her copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Were there more owls than usual?  
  
Ron ducked as two owls collided mid air and almost fell on top of him and his abandoned breakfast. One of those owls was Pig, a zippy little character in the process of picking itself off the ground behind Ron. Ron seized his opportunity to get the package while the overzealous bird was dazed. He reached out and snatched the post free from its talon and smirked down at the confused creature. Ron had, had far too many experiences trying to snatch the excitable Pig out of the air while it was buzzing around his head for him to _not_ be smug about stealing his mail from it.  
  
When he turned back to the Gryffindor table, Hermione was detaching a small package from the talon extended by a familiar owl. It took Ron a moment to recognise the brown and white bird, in fact it was only Hermione's cheeks that gave it away. Her face was blushing and Ron felt a very dark emotion seize hold of him again. He recognised that owl all right, and suddenly had the urge to attack his pancakes with more vigour than necessary. _Vicky's_ owl.  
  
"What's that you have there, Hermione?" Ginny asked with a grin.  
  
Hermione shrugged, placing the package next to her rolled up copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Her breakfast plate had disappeared as well. Ron frowned at the package; it was a small red box, maybe two inches tall with the same width.  
  
"Go on, Hermione. Open it." His sister encouraged.  
  
Hermione grinned and pulled at the silver bow on top before quickly popping off the lid. She didn't want to do anything so completely predictable as gasping and raising her hands to her lips – but the gestures came anyway. Inside the box was the most exquisite charm she was ever likely to lay her eyes on again. It was a small gold lizard, a salamander, dozing on its back one clawed foot wiggling every now and then as it shifted in its sleep. Its belly was quite plump and Hermione's eyes widened when she saw why. Its stomach was made from a fine transparent bubble, that appeared to be crystal on first inspection. Inside that bubble was a fire still burning in slowly swelling in orange-red waves. It amazed her that the flames, that twirled and danced inside, were not starved of oxygen, or were not charring the small round pocket it raged inside of. This was the wizarding world and nothing should surprise her, but this piece of jewellery was just _exquisite_. She could not speak. It was the most adorable necklace she had ever seen, which of course meant that she didn't dare touch it. Instead, she reached for the small piece of white parchment that came with it.   
  
_Dear Hermione,  
  
I is very sorry not to send to you before now. It were not ready and I must give you only the best I can. Happy birthday! I will write more soon in details – best not wear it before that.  
  
Love always,  
Viktor   
_  
Hermione frowned. So brief. Viktor was usually quite profuse in his owl's, he was the best pen friend she'd ever had. Lavendar reached across the table and snatched the parchment away from her.  
  
"Hey!" Hermione hissed. Her voice had no effect on Lavendar or Parvati who was now giggling over the message beside her. It did however wake up her new necklace. Hermione jumped when two red eyes slid open and peered up at her with interest. The little creature yawned, exposing two very sharp teeth. She could have sworn the little charm smiled at her before it stretched and rolled onto its feet to look over the edge of its box. Neville gasped but no one else had noticed that her necklace was quite alive so Hermione put the lid back on and glared at him to be quiet.  
  
"Awwwwwww. He's so sweet." Parvati said, her eyes frowning over at Hermione as if asking why such an undeserving creature was the object of such divine affection. Hermione scowled.  
  
"I know."  
  
"He's got to be mental if he thinks you aren't going to wear that though, it looked absolutely _beautiful_," Lavendar added with a flick of her hair. The blonde strands caught Ron across the face and he glared at her, rubbing a hand across his whip-lashed cheek. "Why was its stomach glowing?" Lavendar asked with an excited grin.  
  
"Fire...there's a little fire in its stomach. Quite pretty really." Hermione said with a silly grin.  
  
"Wow. Can I see?"  
  
"No!" Hermione said, putting her hand over the box for safe keeping. She could feel the little salamander scratching at its enclosure beneath her palm. She swallowed. "I think I'm just going to take Viktor's advice and wait until he can write me again. It's obviously really heavily charmed...actually I'm not sure it would be a nice sensation to have a little salamander crawling over my chest."  
  
"I don't know, if it's got a fire in its belly maybe it will turn out to be really...uh _stimulating_." Parvati giggled, Lavendar joined her, even Ginny looked like she wanted to blush foolishly and start telling stories about all her presents from admirers. Hermione sighed.  
  
"That's one of my concerns. I think it's for the best if this little guy stays exactly where he is."  
  
"Good idea." Ron said. Hermione almost threw a carrot at his head.  
  
Lavendar rolled her eyes, flicking the parchment into the middle of the table. "How very _Hermione_ of you."  
  
Ron's eyes looked down at Viktor's obviously rushed scrawl, "_Love always?_"  
  
"What of it?" Hermione snapped, snatching the parchment back and shoving it in her pocket.  
  
"I just thought you'd grown out of that phase, that's all."  
  
"What phase would that be? You're not still on about that whole 'fraternising with the enemy' rubbish are you? Honestly Ron, do grow up _some time_ soon." She said with more restraint than she normally would. Ron ignored her and looked down at his own Owl. He could tell from the writing who it was from. His jaw tightened and he left it sitting there, he hadn't opened an Owl from Percy since the parchment he'd torn up the year before about Harry's 'violent' tendencies. He was brought out of his fantasy of borrowing Harry's imaginative Firebolt torture technique to use on his brother, by Hermione's voice.  
  
"I shouldn't accept this, should I? It must have taken a great deal of his salary."  
  
Ron grunted. "I thought you'd have kissed him off by now," he hissed. "You obviously do what you like anyway, so why ask me?" It was wrong to take out his angst on her; he could see it in her face. But she said nothing, merely tilted her chin up at him and looked to his sister instead.  
  
Ginny grinned, "Well I'm sure she'll get right on top of the kissing thing the next time she sees him, won't you Hermione?"  
  
Hermione blushed, but was secretly grateful, it was nice to have someone else fight with Ron for her. It was beginning to tire her. She could feel Ron's gaze on her cheeks and so looked away from him. It was only then she noticed something very strange. Most of the Gryffindor table was leaning over a copy of _The Daily Prophet_, muttering in circles, shock on their faces. She couldn't hear laughing any more and beneath all the urgent whispering there was a sort of ominous silence. No. There _was_ laughter. Her eyes followed the direction of her ears over to the Slytherin table where Pansy Parkinson's head rested on her boyfriend's shoulder while she giggled joyously into his smiling face. None of the senior Slytherins had _The Daily Prophet_ out. They already knew... Hermione stiffened as the lull in their conversation brought the strange atmosphere to the attention of her surrounding Gryffindors.  
  
"What's going on?" Neville whispered, fearing that raising his voice to his normal level would somehow be wrong.  
  
Hermione snatched up her copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and quickly unwound the brown twine that held it closed. It unrolled in front of her quickly and held it up for quick scrutiny. She'd moved so fast but as her mind absorbed the front page she'd never felt the world move more slowly. A concentration of time, that's what this was, with her heart pounding in her chest and her eyes darting all over the news spread without absorbing anything but random phrases and a grinning pale face.  
  
The muttering around her was growing in intensity but she didn't need to hear it anymore. _Malfoy...father...innocent...free...murderer...you-know- who...second in command some say...used to be a school Governor...complete autocrat...Lucius Malfoy....innocent...._  
  
There was Lucius Malfoy shaking the hand of the new Minister of Magic, before turning and walking to freedom through the gates of Azkaban. He looked as smug as ever and why not? He'd been found with a wand in his hand, wearing full Death Eater robes, threatening to kill Harry Potter and it still hadn't been enough to lock him away forever. He'd told everyone he'd one day walk free, but most assumed he meant you-know-who would break him out. Who could ever think that the law would fail them now? That they'd actually let him walk out of there, grinning and jovial with those ludicrous words above his head. _Blasphemous_ words that made the last year a complete and utter joke.  
  
"MALFOY INNOCENT"  
  
Beside her Neville and Ginny gasped, reading over her shoulder. But they said nothing. Just stared at what she was staring at. Completely entranced. Smouldering with hate.  
  
_His back was turning...he was walking...to freedom. _

"R-Ron..." she choked.

_His cruel grin, so twisted, so elated...victorious. Walking away...to freedom. Freedom. _  
  
"What?" He asked with a quiet voice, knowing something bad was about to be revealed to him. She said something to him, she didn't know what exactly, she was too angry, too perplexed as to how this had happened. It must have been intelligible though because in the next instant Ron snatched the paper from her and screamed loud enough for the whole hall to hear, "WHAT?!! THAT SLIMY SHIT-EATER!"  
  
The quiet muttering paused, but no one found the outburst amusing except for two. Their laughter was light, smothered between lips trying desperately to remain closed and let the heartily, smug guffaw into the quaking atmosphere. It appeared to be a rather hard struggle from the way Draco Malfoy was holding a hand over his mouth. His eyes were fixed on their table, on _them_. Absorbing their reactions and filing them away to relish at a more appropriate time. She was glad for once that Harry wasn't there.  
  
The Gryffindor table moved as one to that strange sound, so out of place in a room buzzing with anxiety. Hermione watched him, sitting there casually sipping from his pumpkin juice as Pansy giggled in his ear. There in the stillness she found a new depth of hate. He looked across at her, silver eyes flicking between the only members of the Golden Trio present. He stared, letting his entirely arrogant mentality bash against her like waves to a cliff face. He had never scared her and this travesty had nothing to do with him, he had _nothing_ to be smug about. She narrowed her eyes. His returning grin was like the flash of a knife across her heart.  
  
"Where's Harry?" Neville said.  
  
No one answered for a long time.  
  
"He'll be in Potions." Hermione whispered still entranced by the sheer happiness coming from the Slytherin table. Another Death Eater was free. It always threw her off balance. For most of the year that house was still just a part of Hogwarts, those people matriculated to the same place, studied the same subjects, she always fooled herself into believing they shared the same values. It was at moments like this, on this ordinary day that Hermione remembered what was really happening here. The houses would never be united, all was divided, and inside even now there were whispers of joining sides and fighting in the war. Inside and out. On both sides.  
  
"Actually..." Ron said turning his back on Draco in disgust,"I almost want that prat to rub it in Harry's face."  
  
"_Ron!_" Ginny hissed in shock.  
  
"Yep, I think it's something he needs," Ron continued, "I'd even volunteer to scrape that ferret's body off the walls when Harry's through with him."  
  
TBC...  
  
_Ah the plot thickens. I am going to enjoy writing Harry's character so much in this story, mwhahahaha. Don't forget to review, I always love feedback - good or bad.  
_  
Love B xxx

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Fractured Faerie: You know I have a story in another fandom with the exact spelling of your user name. :) Thanks so much for agreeing with me about the Malfoy's. I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite the lack of Draco ;)

Athena Lalaine Ebony: I hope you enjoy this explanation, though it does rely on certain factors not present in canon. I hope you keep reading :)

Alley Mack: Thanks so much! It really reassured me that you think the relationship was convincing, I was so worried no one would like it but everyone seems to have taken to it nicely. :)

Snow-Queen1: Thanks for sticking with me :) I'm so happy you liked Pansy's characterisation. A couple of people have been a bit concerned about how different she is from how she is perceived in canon. I took it that Rowling's book were told through Harry's perspective - with a heavy Gryffindor bias. Since this story is centred around the Slytherin house it would annoy me to write such a two-dimensional character. I hope you keep reading, I always enjoy your thoughts on the story. I hope you like how I'm going to tweak Harry too :)

IHeartDrakieRonnie: Thanks for returning for the first chapter :) Draco's evolution is very central to Lucius, but not entirely so. Sorry for making you read some Draco/Pansy moments. As you probably noted, Draco was emulating Lucius and Narcissa's relationship in that scene - which should settle your worries a bit. Using emotions to control was one of the first things he learnt from his father, so it's highly probably he wasn't being sincere. This is not my first story, it's my first Harry Potter story. I have been writing original stuff and Roswell fic for years. Though I'd like to say I'm a natural, that's not true at all, though I am really unfamiliar with these characters. Hence the nervousness. I hope you found this chapter interesting. :)


	4. Chapter Three: The Snake Inside

Dear Readers – sorry for the long wait, I've been working on other stuff. Before you guys start to flame me for any part of this chapter, I'd like to say I don't think J.K would go to this extreme with Harry but it was certainly fun for me. And horrible to write. This chapter was so hard, that's part of the reason it was so late. Hopefully it didn't turn out too awful, but I couldn't work on it anymore without going cross eyed and starting to look for orange sherbert...  
  
The lyrics come from Silverchair's song 'Acid Rain'. The charm Draco uses comes from two French words meaning 'ice' and 'spread'. And replies to reviews are at the bottom of the page :)

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**Chapter Three: The Snake Inside  
**  
_Seeps into your little green eyes  
Till it meets your brain  
Runnin' through all of your brain cells  
Till it drives you insane...  
_  
  
"Did you see the look on Weasel's face?" Three slytherins burst into laughter, the fourth merely snorted. Draco Malfoy was the most amused of them all, he kept doubling over leaning on the wall, clutching Pansy to his side with barely composed mirth. His smile hadn't left his face since he'd first seen the reaction of the people he loathed the most. He knew he should have brought down that camera he'd nicked off ...oh...what's-his- name..._stupid Gryff's, they all look the same_.  
  
"You really are childish, Malfoy." A bored voice drawled behind him.  
  
Draco looked over his shoulder to slide his eyes over the strolling figures of Theodore Nott and his girlfriend Blaise Zabini. Nott was glaring at him, his lips pursed in impatience. Blaise was trying to pretend she hadn't been laughing along with Pansy and Draco.  
  
"Awwww. Is widdle Teddydums upset with the day's proceedings? I'll remember to shed a tear for you this evening." He laughed louder, picked up his pace and all but threw Pansy around the corner. He was excited, he actually wanted to learn with the Gryffindor's today. Snape was one of his Father's best friends, all the Gryff's would be in foul moods and Snape would be just as excited as Draco was...that boded well for lots of point deducting. Draco hadn't thought his grin could widen any further...until he saw them.  
  
"Shhh..." he raised one finger over his lips and winked. Pansy beamed.  
  
Granger was standing by the Potions door, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. It would have been the perfect opportunity to show the arrogant little bitch what real wizardry was, except that two figures were running toward her quickly. Strangely, they weren't Weasel and Potty.  
  
"This must be her reject set." Pansy whispered in Draco's ear and he smiled down at her. Quietly, he withdrew his wand.  
  
"_Glacius diffusa_." He whispered, pointing his wand at the floor. The slytherins crowded behind him, smirking, as an icy mist poured quickly from the tip of his wand. Instantly the silver-blue ice spread across the stone floor, leaking between the cracks and filling them with a solid, slippery chill. The ice ran to meet the dashing Gryffindor's, their eyes widened, but it was too late for them to stop—  
  
"Ahhhh!" Dean Thomas's foot slid from beneath him, his hands raised up, lashing at the air until they desperately clutched onto the struggling figure beside him. Seamus Finnegan came tumbling down on top of him with a high pitched yelp.  
  
The slytherins roared with ever-growing merriment every time the two bumbling Gryffindor's tried to stand and fell back down. Draco quickly concealed his wand in the arm of his robes. He smiled when Granger turned to glare at him.  
  
"Just _what_ have you stupid Gryffindors been doing down here? Tut, tut." Draco shook his head in mock exasperation. "As a prefect I feel it is my duty to report this blatant _disrespect_ for Hogwarts property. I'm sure Professor Snape will agree with me."  
  
"You prat!" Dean Thomas shouted, lifting his Potions textbook as if he wanted to heft it at Draco's head.  
  
"Too bad your wand is the one that cast the charm," Seamus hissed.  
  
Granger ignored the verbal sparring and pulled out her own wand.  
  
"_Protego_." Draco hissed even though there was no charm sent in his direction to block. He jumped backwards, holding his hand to his heart. Granger's features contorted in confusion while Pansy and Blaise smiled. There was no way to trace who had cast the spell. "You just attacked a fellow Prefect..." Draco sighed.  
  
Granger's eyes narrowed, darkened with hate. Draco would have been smug if he hadn't noticed her fingers were clenching her wand threateningly tight. But instead of casting a spell on him (that would have only helped his story about an 'attack'), she pointed it at the ground, muttering something beneath her breath. A thick warm steam permeated from the tip of her wand. She brushed it back and forth over the ice, melting it into a damp puddle beneath her disgruntled and slightly soggy housemates.  
  
"All right Dean? Seamus?"  
  
"My ass feels like it just said 'ello to me shoulders." Seamus hissed, clamouring to his feet. He glared at the slytherins before helping Dean to his feet.  
  
"Who do they think they are anyway?" Dean pouted as he rubbed his damp clothes.  
  
"Next time don't run in the halls." Hermione said, though her voice wasn't as scathing as it normally would have been.  
  
Theodore Nott brushed past Draco, walked toward the Gryffindors and leant against the opposing wall. A short time later his housemates followed. The Gryffindors ignored the occasional snaky remarks much to the irritation of Draco.  
  
"Ron said you were both still asleep when he came down..." Hermione bit her lip, turning toward the door to the potions classroom. She didn't want the slytherins to hear; they were the people that would love to spread a rumour, especially about _this_ topic. "Is...is Harry really that bad at night?"  
  
Dean looked at her in shock, his gaze then flicked to Seamus, standing behind her. Seamus shook his head slowly.  
  
Dean smiled at her, his dark face all of a sudden sheepish. "Harry? Oh no," he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. "See I drew this picture of Ginny for her birthday and uh...I seem to have misplaced my sketch pad. I've been searching for it—"  
  
"_We've_ been searching for it. He decided if he was going to freeze his bollocks off, he might as well have some company." Seamus glared at Dean, who smiled in the same sheepish fashion back.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Did you find it?" They shook their heads. She wasn't really interested anyway. They all ignored the slytherins when they laughing loud and abruptly. Hermione studiously kept her eyes pinned to Dean's face. Someone should tell the slytherins that their house symbol is a serpent not a hyena. She lowered her voice further, just in case. "What about Harry, have you seen him?"  
  
"Yeah...we passed him, on our way down here—"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "Did he say anything?"  
  
"Well...we were kind of in a hurry." Seamus's voice was nervous, he grimaced when Hermione turned around to glare at him.  
  
"Where was he coming from?" She persisted. Dean sighed. He looked away from her, down the hall.  
  
Where was Snape, anyway? Shouldn't he have been here doing the whole bat- on-a-power-trip thing? Anything was better than an interrogation from Hermione.  
  
"Flying....er...I think. Look I don't know, can we talk about something else?"  
  
Hermione huffed and spun away from him, muttering a tight "Fine" under her breath.  
  
Dean sighed. "I'm buggered is all." He had the dark bags under his eyes to prove it.  
  
"Well...does he at least know about...?" She twirled a curl of her hair, tilting her head to the side, trying to subtly indicate Draco. Dean frowned. "Do _you_ know?"  
  
"Know _what_?"  
  
"Malfoy's dad was released."  
  
Dean's jaw lowered, he leant closer to her in appalled disbelief. It might have been amusing in another instance.  
  
"Malfoy's dad was what?!" Seamus choked.  
  
"Something caught in your throat, Finnegan?" It would have been hard for Draco to miss the fact that he was now their topic of conversation. His eyes were splintered grey slivers, glinting with a fury repressed for years. Seamus glared right back at him.  
  
"Yeah..._bile_."  
  
"I find...vengeance has a much sweeter flavour, don't you Pans?" He didn't look at her when he asked the question.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes as the verbal spar continued, Pansy's high-pitched voice rose to defend her boyfriend while the other two slytherins remained conspicuously silent. Dean was trying to pay attention to the argument, trying to pretend Granger's eyes weren't boring a hole into his forehead.  
  
"What?" He gave up and looked back down to her.  
  
"Does Harry know?" She whispered intently, grasping a hold of the rough material of Dean's sleeves.  
  
"I don't know, Hermione. How could I? But honestly...he probably knew before we did." Dean indicated his forehead with the tap of a finger. Hermione nodded and released her hold.  
  
"I'm so worried about him." She leant back against the wall, checking the dungeon hall for any sign of Snape. She frowned. It was really unusual for him to be late.  
  
Dean was frowning too for a very different reason, he'd just heard a snippet of the conversation Seamus was still having with Draco. Seamus's face was flushed and Draco was grinning with wicked mirth. Dean stiffened.  
  
"That's not true! You take that back!" Seamus hissed.  
  
"Hey Thomas!" Dean flinched when Draco's eyes flicked eagerly to his stunned face. "You're slipping it to Weasel's sister aren't you?" He said casually. Dean glowered. "Of course you are, isn't everyone?" He smiled briefly, moving on like a comic afraid of being cut off before his punch line, "I don't blame you, she has a tight little body...shame about the hair and the family but hey...some relationships aren't about affection. I was just talking with your friend Finnegan here. Asking him his opinion about _The Constellation._" Draco grinned. Dean hesitated; he didn't want to ask what Draco was talking about because it was so damn obvious it was exactly what Draco wanted him to do. "You know _The Constellation_," Draco's hand wrapped around Pansy's waist, sliding down, settling over the left cheek of her backside where he smoothed his fingers with a lecherous grin, "right about _here_."  
  
Dean flushed. Draco could only see his reaction in the horror dawning in the boys eyes. He laughed.  
  
"So..._unique_, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"You...you evil—" Dean lunged forward with a howl of anger. Hermione and Seamus grabbed a hold of each arm, struggling to pull him back. The inventive insults spewing out of his angry mouth only made Draco laugh louder.  
  
"What? Did I say something wrong?" The slytherins cackled again. Ironically enough, it was the slytherins who were most enjoying Snape's absence while the Gryffindor's were silently pleading their least favourite teacher to show up finally.  
  
"You should be glad a pureblood would touch you, even if she was a Weasley." Draco hissed. "Not much of a challenge though." That's when Dean stopped struggling, he went limp and heavy in his friends' arms. The lids over his eyes lowered in disconcertion.  
  
Hermione couldn't believe he'd let Draco get to him like this. She pushed him on to Seamus and fixed up her robes with obvious agitation. Dean was muttering something, while Seamus kept saying "Don't be ridiculous" over and over again. Dean wasn't listening. Hermione growled, marching forward to meet Draco.  
  
"I don't think you've got the right to speculate about taste, Malfoy." Her eyes moved meaningfully between Draco and his affronted girlfriend. "How exactly _do_ pugs and ferrets copulate?"  
  
Pansy made a noise of outrage, half gasp half scream. She moved to attack Hermione but Draco put his hand out, touched her arm and stopped her instantly. His eyes narrowed, his mouth straightened and Hermione tilted her chin up at him insolently.  
  
"Not very polite, this one." He spoke softly, tilting his head as if considering a repugnant but interesting creature.  
  
"She does present a good point though." A surprising voice spoke softly. Hermione widened her eyes when Theodore Nott winked at her with a wide smile of satisfaction on his face.  
  
Draco didn't acknowledge him, though his interest was no longer held by Hermione either. There was a whirl of black movement to his left and Draco turned quickly, hopeful that it was Professor Snape arrived just in time to teach that mudblood upstart some manners. Unfortunately the black blur turned out to be none other than _The Famous Harry Potter_. He was strolling toward them with a frown on his brows.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione grinned nervously, shooting a look between Potter and Draco that was strangely anxious. Draco smirked.  
  
"Well, well, well...late as usual Potter. I'll be sure to report you to Snape." Draco intoned, flicking his eyes up and down the mud spattered picture Harry Potter presented. _This was the great saviour of the Wizarding World? Please. _ He'd never been surer he was on the right side than he was right now. Harry's dull eyes looked at him for a moment then he walked where Seamus was still consoling a saddened Dean. He stood there, staring at the wall above Blaise Zabini's head without saying a thing.  
  
"I was just telling your whore here that she should learn some manners." Draco's eyes returned to Hermione, hoping to watch the insult and anger flare across her face.  
  
She was too distracted to care about whatever he could say. She was watching boy-wonder out of the corner of her eyes. Draco was annoyed, Potter was only staring into space there was no way he was more interesting. Draco glared at the boy-who-lived-to-spoil-his-fun, witnessed his jaw clench but no other visible reaction to Draco's vitriol.  
  
"Did the two love-birds quarrel? I don't see him rushing in to defend you." Draco frowned in confusion. "isn't that what he does? Sees a damsel in distress, organise some heroic music, strut into the room, wave his wand a bit and make it back in time for the victory parade. Simple really." Draco scratched his forehead in mock puzzlement.  
  
"Harry doesn't need to defend me, especially not from the likes of you. I could cut my brain in half and _still_ embarrass you." She hissed.  
  
"I'm sure I could fetch a knife to test that theory."  
  
"I heard about your father Malfoy." Harry still hadn't moved his eyes from the position on the wall. His face was strangely blank, almost bored. He was slouched back against the stone wall; his feet were crossed in front of him. It was a shock to hear his measured voice.  
  
"Good news does travel fast." Pansy turned her nose up to Potter in disgust.  
  
Harry's eyes finally slid down the wall, to look at her for a moment, then slowly progressed to her boyfriend's face. Otherwise, he didn't move. "Just got back from his holiday with a large party of friends. I hope he enjoyed himself. Be sure to pass on my regards, I'd hate for him to think we'd all forgotten about him while he was away." The tone of voice Harry was using was much like the one Dumbledore spoke with when he was addressing a rather irritating adversary. It was very unsettling to see such a calm anger in Harry. Her friend didn't know the meaning of such an oxymoronic emotion, he wasn't that complex. Anyone could see his emotions, his eyes usually blazed with them. It had been one of his most obvious weaknesses and greatest strengths. _Not any more_. Hermione couldn't take her eyes from him, she wanted him to be that naively honourable boy again. The boy that wore his heart on his sleeve because he didn't know there was another way.  
  
Pansy made a noise of indignation. "_Shut up, Potter!_"  
  
"There's no need to be rude Pansy, Potter is just trying to be civil." Draco spoke through his teeth. He took one step toward Harry then his whole body stiffened. Harry was still mostly relaxed though Hermione could see a faint tensing in his shoulders. She subconsciously backed away as the two continued to stare at each other.  
  
It was actually quite funny to see that vein in Draco's forehead throb in such an unattractive way. His nostrils flared with the strain of reeling back his temper; his jaw clenched and unclenched. But his stance was pure ice. He stood there, pale and livid like he'd been carved out of the very heart of Winter. She had no idea what he was thinking, his face was empty now, the anger gone, leaving nothing at all behind.  
  
"I'll be sure to pass on your compliments." Draco monotoned, "since you're being so very, very _civil_, I feel a compulsion to return the gesture. I've wanted for so long to offer you my condolences, Potter." There was nothing overtly malicious about the words but Harry reared backwards as if Draco had stunned him. Draco smiled. "I heard that mutt of yours got put down recently. I saw it once...pathetic looking creature wasn't it?" He sighed dramatically, his eyes absorbing Harry's reaction with pure relish. "Ah, you're still upset I see. Just accept it, that's what happens to _mongrels_ who turn stray in the Wizarding World."  
  
It was all too fast to tell what happened first.

_"Harry don't—" _

_A blinding red light. _

_Laughter. _

_A cry like an enraged animal. _

_"DRACO!" _

_A wand arm raising. _

_Draco flying through the air like he was made of paper. _

_Pinned to the wall. _

_The heavy steps of feet. _

_Screaming. _

_A wand rolling on the ground... The laughter. _

"Nice shot, Potter." Theodore Nott said with a crooked grin.  
  
Harry didn't look at him; his whole body was trembling save his rigidly steady arm. It pointed out like an accusation, the dark wood of his wand still clasped so tightly that his knuckles were white, the smoking tip aimed at Draco's heart. Draco was pressed to the Slytherin side of the hall, about one metre from the ground. His breath was laboured, his eyes wide with fright. Pansy was currently tugging at his feet trying to pull him back down while Nott stood and laughed.  
  
"H-Harry...." Hermione whispered. She moved to clasp his arm. The action jolted him and he snarled again, whipping his wand arm to the left. Draco's body followed the movement and he screamed as he was thrown from the wall, flung into the open space of the hall and slammed into the ground. He shouted out in pain, flipping over to his backside to crab-walk backwards. Harry followed him, wand raised offensively.  
  
Dean and Seamus were edging backwards, watching Harry with terror. Hermione looked at them pleadingly for only a moment before she realised they were going to do nothing. They didn't even know who Sirius was to Harry.  
  
"Harry, please! He's not worth it."  
  
"I'll decide what he's worth!"  
  
Sparks of red light sprung from Harry's wand, Draco's twitching body rose from the ground then slammed back down again with a sickening thud. Harry's eyes were shining with such hatred he looked crazed. Hermione for the first time wanted to see him reassert that cool which had been concealing all of this rage from her.  
  
Pansy, only just recovering from her shock, drew her own wand. She raised it to Harry's back.  
  
"_Expelliarmus!_" Her wand flew out of her hand, caught by the graceful hands of Blaise Zabini. It wasn't her that had spoken. Nott reached forward and pulled Pansy behind him. He maintained a hold of her wrist as he continued to speak in her ear. "Now, now Pansy. Not until he tags you."  
  
Draco's body slammed into the ground again and now Hermione was screaming at her friend to stop. Her body was shaking in fright.  
  
"Harry stop this. I know he's a...a-a prat," she blushed at her inarticulate description, blundering on none-the-less, "but...but don't do this...you're _scaring_ me!"  
  
He didn't hear her, his eyes were hungrily fixed on Draco. He felt something inside of him raging with uncontrollable hate. There were jaws lashing out wildly in his stomach, jaws and a long slithering body, rolling around his spine and filling his blood with venom. Draco didn't deserve a lot of things, but Harry was certain he deserved this. They _all_ did. But however many walls Harry's wand slammed this snake into, he still wouldn't _learn_. This wasn't what Harry really wanted to do.  
  
He lowered his arm when a single line of blood trailed from Draco's hairline down across his pale face. Draco breathed heavily, slumped back onto his shoulders, whimpering in pain. He raised his hand to his face, felt the blood and cried out in horror.  
  
"He's trying to kill me, you all saw. You'll be out this time Potter!"  
  
"_I would have killed you...but you're really not worth it_." Harry hissed. He slid his wand into his robes.  
  
The slight turn of his head made him oblivious to the pallor suddenly infusing Draco's already pale cheeks. He started crawling backwards again. _That voice..._he'd only heard it once before but it had failed to terrify him like this back then.  
  
"H-Harry..." Hermione backed away too, her hand covered her mouth and all other students stared at Harry in shock.  
  
He never used parseltongue. Never.  
  
"That doesn't mean I won't beat the hell out of you." Harry shouted and ran at Draco pouncing on him before the other boy knew what was happening.  
  
"NO!" Hermione yelled. She ran forward to pull her friend back. It wasn't working. The two boys rolled, issuing curses and fumbling punches. Harry slammed Draco's head into the ground and the pale faced boys punches instantly became more drunken than sloppy.  
  
"Don't (punch) you (punch) ever talk (punch) about Sirius (punch, punch) again!" Harry was screaming. The snake inside bucked and writhed with every movement of his body, he was delirious with energy, the rage consumed him and he let it happen for there was only one person in the world he hated more than Draco Malfoy and he was _late_. Harry was straddling Draco now, pounding a closed fist into the boys face over and over again. When the blood started to pour down his face it only meant that he was succeeding. Draco Malfoy felt nothing, this wasn't about pain. Harry had never felt such anger consuming him, his skin was on fire, and someone was laughing so ridiculously high pitched that this manic behaviour felt _right_. It _was_ funny to see Draco's head moving like a puppets head sagging against its strings.  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
Harry yelled out in fury when he was suddenly dragged off Draco by an invisible hook. He slammed into the ground, stood up swiftly and swung around to face his assailant. His wand was out before he realised he'd reached for it and now it was pointing at the hooked nose of a very irate Severus Snape.  
  
"_What_ pray tell, do you think you're doing?" The Potions master snarled.  
  
Harry breathed heavily, his face slightly smeared with blood, his or Draco's it didn't matter, but it was there. Harry smiled slightly but didn't lower his wand. "Just teaching Malfoy a lesson sir."  
  
Snape sneered, his lip curled when he looked to where Draco was lying unconscious on the floor. "That's my job, Mr Potter." Snape intoned with obvious restraint. It was clear he wanted to say something else, Harry wanted him too as well. Instead he merely looked at the long black length of Harry's steady wand. "Lower your wand. _Now_."  
  
"Drakie..." Pansy whimpered and ran past Harry and Snape. She dove onto the flattened body of her boyfriend. He groaned slightly when she shook his chest. "Wake up!"  
  
"Get off me..." He said and she drew back with a triumphant cheer.  
  
"Oh he didn't kill you! Thank Merlin." She said softly, clutching a hand to her heart.  
  
It didn't matter if he was still alive; Draco had certainly seen better days. Had he stepped in front of his magical mirror now he doubted it would have given him its usual growl of approval, more like a shriek of horror. His nose was broken, in at least two places, his bottom lip was cut, so was his left eyebrow and he was sure to have two black eyes. He was a bloody mess, his new robes were ruined and now he was completely humiliated by the same arrogant twat responsible for every other humiliation he'd suffered at this wretched school.  
  
"He tried to kill me, sir! He attacked me, I didn't even punch him!" Draco hissed as authoritatively as he could, considering his whirling head.  
  
"Ain't that the truth..." Seamus snickered.  
  
"Silence!" Snape hissed and the snide chuckling stopped abruptly. He turned his powerful black glare to Harry, narrowing his eyes when Harry still refused to lower his wand arm.  
  
"Harry..." Hermione whispered insistently. _Just do it_. She'd never seen Snape look at someone which such loathing, and he'd looked at Harry hatefully many times in the past. Surely a dragon would whimper before such a glower. Not Harry. He stood there and rolled his eyes as if he was very bored by a tedious order.  
  
"I was finished here anyway." Harry said and lowered his wand, sliding it back into his robes.  
  
He returned his now blank gaze to Snape and slumped into the same boyishly awkward posture he'd always had. His back was still facing Draco. Hermione risked a glance in that direction, saw Draco slapping Pansy's hands away as she tried to wipe away with blood with a little saliva and a Malfoy handkerchief.  
  
"That's pure silk, Pansy! For Merlin's sake use your wand!"  
  
"A hundred points from Gryffindor for attacking a prefect _unprovoked_; raising your wand to a teacher and _superior_; along with your usual insolence. As for detentions," Snape's lip curled, "you may have to start living with Mr Filch."  
  
Harry shrugged. "It was worth it."  
  
Oh he was looking at him now and it was hard to suppress the urge. He could almost here something inside him hissing and lunging, sliding and snapping its long venomous teeth. _This is him...him._  
  
"It will be a travesty of justice if you somehow escape expulsion."  
  
"Justice doesn't seem to be high on the Wizarding agenda these days, just look at—"  
  
"_Silence you insolent little fool!_" Snape stepped into Harry's face, he was so angry his cheeks almost had colour in them. The hall was deadly silent after his outburst. A muscle in his cheek twitched. "Report to the Headmaster's office immediately."  
  
Harry flinched, moved backwards as if he would have obeyed. Then Hermione saw his jaw clench and he stepped back to his original position, defiantly staring down Snape. Snape's lip curled into a cruel sneer. Then he turned briskly to his class.  
  
"Miss Parkinson get off the floor and stop blubbering this instant."  
  
Pansy looked up to him in shock, but she stood to command like a soldier. One glare sent the rest of the class scurrying into the classroom, even Nott. Hermione paused in the doorway, looked back at Harry who refused to move his eyes from the spot Snape had whirled away from. His eyes were now fixed on a patch of air; his hands were clenched into fists. Indeed, his whole body seemed to be clenched, only his hair remained wildly loose. Hermione blinked, squeezed the side of the door for a moment before starting back toward him.  
  
"_What_ did I say Miss Granger?"  
  
"I just wanted—"  
  
"I _don't_ care—" Snape started to yell when Draco sounded a particularly loud groan. The boy tried to sit up but quickly slumped back down again. Snape smiled cruelly, flicking his eyes back to the startled Gryffindor girl. "You," he jabbed a finger in her direction, "Miss Granger, have a duty to your fellow prefect. Do kindly escort the victim of Potter's insane violent streak up to the Hospital wing. If I hear one whisper about you treating Mr Malfoy in the same manner as your housemate, I'll have your badge."  
  
Hermione paled, her large shocked eyes shot to where Harry stood. When he still refused to acknowledge her she ran to Malfoy's crumpled form and muttered a quick "_mobilocorpus._"  
  
Snape turned back to the classroom, "Miss Parkinson, you will watch this class until I return. If I come back to find even one potion incomplete the entire class will find something very interesting in their pumpkin juice this evening." He slammed the door shut, twitched his body around in a circle. His face muscles contorted as he stalked back to where Harry stood. "I thought I told you to get out of my sight."  
  
Harry's eyes moved from that section of air he'd been staring at. His green eyes were sharp with pure loathing. "I'm not scared of you." He'd sworn never to forgive this man, never to shudder and bow before him again. It was only hate that had kept Harry sane that past Summer. The last thing he cared about was Snape finding out about the depth of his hate. He _wanted_ him to know. "You're despicable but you don't frighten me."  
  
"You'll never change, you—" Snape visibly restrained himself, his wand hand clenched and unclenched. "You just attacked a student; I'm quite certain you would have killed Mr Malfoy had I not come along."  
  
"It is a possibility." Harry shrugged.  
  
"Listen to me you insolent fool, I don't care what the Headmaster says about you, you're just like your father – you think you're above everyone, that it doesn't matter how many people you hurt; you have no regard for rules or human life, and I can't wait until—"  
  
Harry laughed; it was a cold, hearty guffaw that made Snape pause. "Until _what?_ Until your _real_ boss gets to kill me?" Harry refused to back down even though his hand was starting to twitch with the need to grab his wand. "I can't wait either. I'd almost be grateful to get it done. At least he's honest about who he is." Harry looked Snape up and down with disgust. "And excuse me if I didn't realise we were talking about a human being. I thought we were discussing _Malfoy_ and as far as I'm concerned he's somewhere beneath the ass of a blast-ended skrewt."  
  
They were both shifting, the violent electricity in the air was almost unbearable. Both felt the blood rushing through their veins, the dark urge clamouring to control their fingers...  
  
"Follow me, Potter." With a whirl of his robes Snape stalked away from him. He was walking toward Dumbledore; vengeance or punishment. Harry gazed after him for a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. He wouldn't hang his head, he wasn't shamed or afraid. He followed his Professor at the same brisk pace.  
  
Hermione walked as fast as she could, guiding Draco's floating body left, right, up and down. She just wanted to be rid of his presence. He'd snapped out of his delirium about three staircases ago and hadn't shut up since.  
  
"Put me down this instant!"  
  
"Have it your way." She raised her wand briskly and Draco's injured body tumbled to the ground. The curses he started to sling at her only made her smile widen.  
  
"Watch yourself, mudblood."  
  
"Your mouth is clearly functioning again, my guess is your head will catch up soon enough." Hermione stepped backwards warily when Draco used the bronze frame beside him to pull himself to his feet.  
  
"Earthquake! Earthquake!" A victorian maiden shouted in the painting before darting off into the next painting along. Hermione watched her retreat before returning her hard gaze to Draco.  
  
"I'm sure you can find your way from here, now if you'll excuse me—"  
  
"You were told to escort me, surely you wouldn't make it that easy for me to take your badge?"  
  
Hermione couldn't be bothered to argue. She turned and began walking briskly toward the infirmary, leaving Draco to trail behind her. But Malfoy stayed where he was. It took her ten steps to realise he was going to be a stubborn git. She turned around in anger and stomped back toward him.  
  
"If you don't move I can put the hex right back on you."  
  
"You were supposed to escort me—"  
  
She grunted in frustration. "What do you want me to do? Curtsy and offer you my arm, you sadistic prat?!"  
  
"Sure." He said with an easy smirk. "Well, let's see it." She only gaped at him.  
  
"I'd rather be the warden taking off your Father's cuffs than bow to you." She said.  
  
Draco's eyes gleamed. "I bet you would. Touching a fine pureblood like that would just make your day wouldn't it, mudblood? I bet your head is just full of dirty thoughts about my Father..."  
  
"The only thought filling my head is that Dumbledore should have killed him when he had the chance!"  
  
Draco raised his hand palm inwards, poised to backhand her. He stopped himself, but not before Hermione realised his intentions. She didn't flinched, merely shook her head, chuckling mirthlessly. She refused to acknowledge her pounding heart.  
  
"Go on Malfoy, make it that easy for me to have _your_ badge."  
  
"You'll all regret the insolent way in which you've treated me."  
  
"Awww. They always say school bullies hurt others because they're hurting. Well if you want someone to kiss your ego better you're going to have to slither off and find your girlfriend because I'd rather swallow a flobberworm. I don't think we'll regret anything. That blood gushing from your nose is proof enough that you'll never be the wizard Harry is. You're not even a minor register on his list of concerns. Swallow that one, Malfoy." She flicked her bushy hair and turned on her heels.  
  
Malfoy's veins were pumping ice; his chest clenched, something in his heart prickled with pure hate and his wand was in his hand before he knew it. She was walking way, strutting like the pretentious little snot she was – he raised his wand and a jet of red sparks shot right past her left ear. She screamed and jumped to the side, whirling around to face him.  
  
"I could have had you then. Swallow that one, Granger."  
  
Before Malfoy could finish smirking Hermione had pulled her own wand and shouted "_Petrificus Totalus_."  
  
His limbs snapped rigidly straight, arms locked beside his legs. His body teetered for a few moments – backwards, forwards –then he keeled over and slammed into the ground. Darts of pain invaded his chest where bruises were present; he could even feel his pulse in his lips. His eyes couldn't blink, or close in embarrassment, so he saw her smug grin when she looked down at him with her hands on her hips.  
  
"Could have...should have...would have." She grinned evilly. "_Mobilocorpus_." She disappeared from sight and Draco was not about to regret the loss of her cocky face.  
  
He felt himself rise off the floor. She guided him left and right, up and down until he heard the startled voice of Madam Pomfrey ushering him into the hospital wing. His temper festered and simmered with the urge to boil over, but he couldn't even curse in his current condition. They would all pay, Snape included. Imagine making Granger escort him to the hospital when someone devoted and caring like Pansy could have taken care of him much more affectively. He heard her Mary Janes clip clopping out of the infirmary, felt the screaming muscles around his mouth deflect the growl that had risen in his throat. She was merrily whistling 'Puff the Magic Dragon' and he couldn't possible hate her any more than he did.

TBC....

* * *

Mariona: Thanks so much, I'm so happy :)

La Kitsa: I hope you still are happy with my character portrayals even though Harry is a little more agro than I think he'll turn out in the next book. Sorry for the long wait.

Alley Mack: lol. I suppose confusion is a good thing because it means i haven't hit the predictable plateau yet. Never fear, I'm only a couple of chapters in. I had to get rid of all the transitional stuff first. It should become clearer soon, but hopefully not too clear.

Verybadgirl: Hey there beautiful. I'm so glad to have finally written something that didn't dead-bird-gaze you, feel free to tell me if that happens though :) I love your brutal honesty. I don't care if you know where I live as long as you don't pass that information on. :)

Brinker: Well...to tell you the truth it was me who pimped it at Sleeping with the Enemy so I have pimped it a little. I don't really think there is anything to pimp yet, because the herm-draco interaction is at a minimum. But you can pimp it all you like :) I'll give you seven gold stickers!

Kristywroth: 'Interesting' I like that. As this story has a subplot there will be the occasionally Draco-free chapters, but the major theme is the somewhat strange relationship with his family so I hope you'll stick around.

Cinammon: Yay! Thanks so much for clicking with my characterisations. Phew. I know how psychotic Potter fans are about getting it right so I was nervous. As far as Ginny goes, the only real character trait J.K really gave her was her strength in book five, so I took that and ran with it in a wacky direction, sorry if it went a little too OOC but I'm glad you like it.

midnightdimunds: HEY!! I'm so happy you're reading my story it's a huge ego boost! lol I hope Harry turned out the way you wanted him to, his sort of having problems dealing...but it sure is fun making him snap. Exhaustive detail - HA! Yeah that's one way of putting it, I get carried away sometimes blushes If you like the cigarettes stick around, he's never too far from them. Every chapter is going to have some silverchair in it, so I hope it keeps you happy :) It's so amazing to find someone on the other side of the planet that loves the best aussie band in the world. Amazing. I just got back from holidays down the coast, but I saw your story has been updated so I'll get on to it right after I've posted this! hugs

Snow-Queen1: About the 'brown eyes' thing, I scoured the whole chapter looking for what you were referring to, but I only found mentions of Ron and Draco's eyes - both of which are blue. Could you point it out to me? Maybe I didn't word it write. Anyway, I'm really wondering what you think of Harry now that he's actually made an appearance. Hope it's still positive. Keep reading, I always love your reviews!


	5. Chapter Four: Elegant Pornography

**_Hmmm....either the last chapter really sucked or not that many people are reading this. Ah well. Hope those reading, enjoy this update. Thanks especially to Snow-Queen1. I know you guys might be thinking 'Is this really based on 'The Snow Queen'' - yes it is I swear, it's just hard to tell at the moment._**

**Chapter Four: Elegant Pornography**

_"I love the way you love_

_But I hate the way I'm supposed to love you back."_

- Miss You Love

Two brown eyes watched, absolutely transfixed, as the tiny creature preened itself on her pillow. It knew she was watching and occasionally would send an indulgent smirk in her direction. Such a peculiar little thing. Her head was cupped by both hands, she rested on her elbows, lying down on her bed, feet swaying back and forth in the air. She didn't want to go downstairs. She'd stayed upstairs, written a quick owl to Viktor Krum about the specific charms of his gift, then been pathetic enough to name her necklace 'Sparky', watch it run around in circles trying to catch its tail, blow smoke signals into her hair and bathe itself. It was quite an active little charm. For all its genius, it was annoying enough that Hermione was starting to think it was a piece of gag jewellery that Luna Lovegood would make. It could have also been a last gag sent to her by the Weasley brothers. Worse still, it could have been sent by an enemy of Harry, pretending to be Viktor. After all he'd never been so brief with her before. She'd have to wait for Viktor to write back. She dreaded wearing it.

A thump sounded from below her and she flinched. Sparky paused, its tiny gold head lifting in sudden alert. They could both faintly make out the screaming match taking place downstairs. So far, at least three pieces of furniture had been thrown and Hermione didn't want to know what that shattering noise had been five minutes ago. McGonagall, down in the Great Hall eating an early breakfast in preparation for the Hogsmeade outing, had luckily not heard a thing. Hermione was the only one in Gryffindor tower that was wishing McGonagall would come upstairs and berate her irate students; most arguments involving a Weasley were spectator sports, as popular as muggle wrestling matches. No one could lose their temper like a Weasley.

The door to Hermione's room slammed open and two giggling Gryffindor's bolted inside, locking it behind them. Hermione was surprised when the pretty blonde girl whispered "_Silencio_" and sent a conspiratorial smile in Hermione's direction.

Hermione didn't want to ask.

She rolled into a sitting position and quickly scooped Sparky up.

"You'll never—oh she's going to wear it!!" Parvati quickly lost track of whatever gossip had brought her and her laughter upstairs.

"No, I'm—"

"We're so happy, we thought you were going to be all stuffy about it, like you usually are." Parvati grinned, falling onto the bed beside her disgruntled friend.

"I'm not stuffy, I just—"

"You should let Ginny wear it for a while, I think she'll need the pick me up." A record two seconds to swing the conversation back in that direction; Hermione wryly noted that she should be proud of her gossiping friend. Parvati was popular, beautiful and well connected to every scandalous story in Hogwarts that Hermione in her wisdom couldn't care less about. Parvati couldn't understand why Hermione (being the most intelligent witch she knew) didn't find it absolutely intriguing that Professor Sinistra was rumoured to have had a sordid affair in her first year with Professor Snape...I mean wasn't there a poll back in third year about why Professor Snape kept staring at Professor Lupin _that_ way?

"It's too dangerous." Hermione tried to deflect the conversation early.

"You're a Gryffindor Hermione, stop being such a Ravenclaw." Parvati grinned. It was her favourite catchphrase, to win an argument with her sister. She always liked to say that she was the more adventurous one in the family; she couldn't say she was more beautiful or more intelligent since her _identical_ twin Padma was sorted into the most intelligent of houses. "Krum would hardly send you anything dangerous. It's more likely an aphrodisiac, or—"

"_Parvati_!" Hermione looked scandalised. Her mouth gaped as she looked accusingly at the charm resting in the palm of her hand. Parvati and Lavender laughed.

"It was a joke, Herm." Lavender clasped her shoulder. "He'd never hurt you, he's too besotted, don't you trust him?" Hermione hated to admit it, but Lavendar did have a point. Viktor would take it as an insult if she didn't wear the charm, but he had said it was 'best not to wear it' before he had time to write a second owl. Even then, Hermione wasn't sure whether she _would_ wear it. It was difficult to know whom to trust; she hated to think that Moody's paranoia was growing on her, it was just caution she reassured herself but...what if she _was_ being ridiculous?

The three Gryffindor girls still weren't all that close, but Dumbledore's Army had brought them to some kind of truce. Hermione felt a pang in her chest at the thought of the disbanded D.A. True, they'd only formed because Defence classes had been a joke in fifth year, but it had been such a success she had thought the private club would continue.

"Uh-oh, she's getting that pouty look again." Lavender stage whispered.

"This will cheer you up. Downstairs. The knockout clash between Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley. Who will prevail?" Parvati laughed. "We're up to round six, and I tell you what if Thomas doesn't shut up soon he's going to be getting more than the obligatory Weasley-migraine."

Hermione frowned. "Isn't this resolved yet?" She almost flinched at her stupidity. Just the slightest encouragement would cause Lavendar to—

"Well _firstly_," Too late. "Dean waited for her in the common room, stewing. It was really amusing, because he had this vein twitching and he kept snapping his quills..." She laughed, only stopping when Hermione's eyes narrowed. "We were downstairs early because well...we heard some things...can't tell you our sources of course...but everything was confirmed when Ginny came downstairs..."

"He accused her of not only snogging but _shagging_ Malfoy." Parvati continued.

"Don't be ridiculous!" When did her voice get so high pitched? Hermione couldn't help it, surely she wouldn't turn into another giggling female idiot?

"_He did_." Parvati nodded solemnly as she twirled her teardrop necklace around her finger.

"Well Ginny didn't like her virtue being slammed in front of Gryffindor house. So once the initial books had been thrown in his direction and she'd screamed the O.E.D out of obscenities, she finally got around to asking him why—"

"Lavender...this is kind of private don't you think?"

Just then the unmistakable voice of Ronald Weasley joined the fray downstairs.

"YOU SAW MY SISTERS WHAT??"

All three witches flinched at the reverberating sound of the next thump. No voice could carry in a tirade like Ron Weasley's, but the violence that followed....Hermione winced. She hoped Dean Thomas had life insurance.

"Turns out that Malfoy told Dean about this cluster of freckles on Ginny's _er-hmmm_." Parvati looked down meaningfully and grinned when Hermione flushed. She wasn't blushing however; she was getting angry for Ginny's sake.

"This is all about a bunch of stupid _freckles_?"

"Well they're in quite an indiscreet place, so the only way that Malfoy would know about them was if he had well...got her kit off so to speak." Lavender was trying not to look so happy about the situation, but the gleam in her eyes was unmistakable.

"I can't believe Dean would listen to that lying, evil, manipulative git! Malfoy is perverse, he could have just spied on her changing in the Quidditch—"

"Worse than _that_, Hermione. Don't jump in too soon, it gets better. A couple of weeks ago Ginny posed _au naturale_ for one of Dean's artworks."

"Or as we like to call them, _elegant pornography_." Parvati, the ever-faithful assistant piped in.

"Then Dean lost his sketch book. We wondered why he was running around the school a couple of days ago like his life depended on it."

"Not his life maybe, but his balls definitely." They both laughed uproariously.

"He lost the drawing, everyone reckons Malfoy found it and has shown the entire school." Luckily for Lavender, she managed to restrain her delight about the drama. Hermione was chewing her lip with worry. "Ginny accused Dean of bragging about getting her naked, she thinks the sketchbook should never have left the tower. Dean's too proud to take back what he said about Ginny's sleeping habits, and Ginny refuses to think that it was all just an accident. I mean who would want to laugh about Draco Malfoy flashing their ass all over the school?"

"I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU!!" A high pitched female voice screamed from downstairs.

"And _Ron_ knows all of this?" Hermione asked nervously. Lavendar grinned, nodding in excitement. Hermione's eyes widened, flicked between her two friends nervously.

Parvati grimaced in sympathy. "He's _toast_."

Hermione scooped up her cloak and bolted down the stairs. She looped Sparky around her neck as she fumbled with the heavy material, trying not to fall on her face. She could hear their voices getting louder and was grateful that she couldn't hear Ron bashing Dean's head against the common room wall.

Instead, she found Ron holding Dean off the floor by his collar, shaking him around. On one of the couches, Seamus and Neville were looking back and forward between the screaming participants in the spectacle, nibbling on what was unmistakably a box of popcorn. Ginny was beating her fists into Ron's back, ordering him to let Dean go. Instead of those orders stemming from concern, Ginny was more interested in using her own claws. "I can take care of myself, Ron! This isn't about you!!"

"I'll deal with you in a minute!" Ron snapped. "I can't believe I _trusted_ you—" This said to Dean, whose legs were kicking at Ron's shins as he vied for freedom— "_with my baby sister_!"

"You arrogant prat! It was _my_ ass flashed about the school, if anyone's going to make that git bleed it will be _me_!" Ginny's heal stamped down onto Ron's toes. Ron let out a high pitched yelp and released Dean. Dean's body collapsed to the ground, but he was smart enough to roll back to his feet quickly.

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Ron growled, hopping around in a circle.

"Just calm down!" Hermione said, but no one heard her.

"How could you, I'll kill you—" and various growls of the like were littered between blows as Ginny attacked her boyfriend. She was just hitting his chest with an open palm, but the force of the blows were enough to make him stagger since he wasn't fighting back.

"I'm sorry, you know I would never show—ow—Malfoy! Ginny please!"

"I'll give you one more warning..." Hermione said as she drew her wand out of her sleeve.

"You better watch—"

"You'll be neutered—"

"_Three—"_

"—your back, Thomas!"

"—by the end—"

_"Two—"_

"—of the night—"

"I didn't mean do it!"

_"One..."_ Hemrione sighed before swishing her wand, "_SILENCIO!_"

They were miming a horrible argument for only a few seconds more before they became aware that they couldn't talk. Ginny tried to mime what she had been saying, using her fingers as scissors before pointing angrily at Dean's crotch. He paled noticeably, but her cheeks were only getting redder. She didn't care if she couldn't speak, her ire would be known. She swung her arm back and punched him in the face. Dean howled silently as his head snapped to the side. It was only as Ron punched the air in silent amusement that they all became aware of Hermione's presence. Standing there, at the base of the girl's staircase, drumming her fingers against her hip. Her scowl was very disapproving, and all three of them wilted before her anger. The scowl however was not directed at them, but at Neville and Seamus. Neville had slapped his knee in disappointment when Ginny landed the punch, and now he was reaching for a sickle and handing it over to a smugly grinning Seamus.

"If I didn't hex you all, it would have been three detentions with Filch. I think this argument has gone on long enough, and I'm sure you're all very sorry." Hermione ignored what Ron was screaming at her, even though it didn't take an expert lip-reader to gauge what the words were. "This is absolutely none of my business, nor anyone else's in the tower. Seamus give that money back to Neville and shame on the both of you, these are your friends!" They frowned. Hermione gave a pointed look about the common room, indicating all the other Gryffindor's from the quivering first years, to the amused fifth years holding up charmed 'Go Ginny, Go!' flags. "I don't want to punish any of you, but I will get McGonagall if you don't get over it right now. Dean, Ginny would never touch Malfoy. Ginny, I'm sure Dean didn't mean to be a complete and utter idiot by losing his sketch pad, he told me he was searching all night for it. I hope that you didn't pose for that picture in Gryffindor tower. And Ron...you're a prefect and a compete moron. What do you think you're doing? After what Harry did yesterday! Are you trying to get our house into more trouble? One more stunt like this and you can forget about me helping you research the Vervorm Mirror."

Ron paled. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Finnish had separated the class into pairs on her first day, designating each pair two dark artefacts to investigate. Neville had been paired with Harry; Ron with Hermione. Theoretically they had to learn all they could about the artefact and then tell the class how they would defend their partner. Hermione, being Hermione, had completed her assignment a week after the task was given. Ron was still having difficulty finding a text on the Vervorm Mirror and had started grovelling shamelessly for help three days ago.

Ron nodded slightly, his cheeks were flushed. The glare he directed at Dean Thomas left Hermione feeling that even though he seemed abashed, he was still plotting stumbling across Dean in a Hogsmeade alley sometime later today.

"Good. Can I trust you all?" She looked briskly at the three of them. They all nodded their heads and she muttered the counter-curse.

"I'm really sorry about this, Hermione." Dean said quietly. Ginny's head snapped in his direction disdainfully.

"_Ginny_." Hermione warned.

"You _will_ be sorry." Ginny turned on her heel and picked up her cloak where it was messily thrown on the ground. She stomped toward the portrait hole. "Come on, Hermione!" She hissed.

"What? No, but I—" Her hand went up to her neck, remembering the necklace. Ginny didn't know or care about Hermione's dilemma. She walked up to her friend, grabbed her tightly by the wrist and yanked her toward the portrait hole. "I've had my fill of Gryffindor piggotry for today, how about you?" Piggotry? Oh dear, when she started making up words Hermione knew she was in trouble...

She threw a panicked look over her shoulder to Ron, but he was so annoyed at being blackmailed by her that he pretended to see something fascinating on the wall above her head.

"Ron and I were going to—"

"Let's go." Ginny said and pulled Hermione out of Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady told them to have a good time as they walked toward the Entrance Hall. Hermione sighed. Hogsmeade with an irate boys-are-the-Devil Ginny Weasley. Perfect.

* * *

"I want to look my best Drake." Her voice came through the thick curtain of a Gladrags Wizardwear change room.

Draco tightened his jaw, casting a disdainful look around the store. Students had been streaming in, running their grimy, uncovered hands all over every aisle, every article of clothing, trying them on, putting them back. Why did Pansy want to buy something from here? It was all so very _beneath_ him. He was used to hiring his own tailors, no Malfoy ever shopped off a rack, especially when there was a rather large chance that a mudblood would have tried on the clothing. His lip curled.

"Hurry up, Pansy."

His patience was wearing thin. He'd sent Crabbe and Goyle to buy him some quills, a new top-of-the-line broom polish and collect his weekly bag of sweets from Honeydukes. Draco knew that he didn't really want the sweets. He just liked to either a) punish them for scoffing down half his treats without his permission, or b) see the looks of pain on their faces after exercising whatever restraint they did possess. They were painfully predictable, but when he got a laugh out of their pathetic, snivelling natures he wasn't about to complain.

"What do you think?" The curtain squealed loudly on its rings as she shoved it aside.

Draco's lip turned infinitesimally, then his eyes roamed up and down. She was grinning expectantly, for Draco did love her and she was sure to be praised for her brilliance.

The colour was too pale, her dark hair clashed painfully with it. The barely pink tone blurred with her skin, which wasn't a good look. He didn't want people to think the girl he had on his arm was naked when he took her out. Whores weren't his style. Her cheeks were flushed, he'd have to do something about that and was her forehead always so—

"Well?" She twirled, swishing the bottom of the robes around in a dramatic circle.

"Beautiful as always." He said, smiling at her.

"Should I wear my hair up or down?" She demonstrated the look both ways. He wasn't watching. He barely restrained himself from twirling his blonde hair around his finger and flicking his lashes at her, 'Oh Drakie, Drakiepoo, tell me I'm pretty, kiss me my darling, I love youuuuu.' A cruel imitation for sure, but he wasn't fool enough to think it was inaccurate. He hated females that needed to be coddled. All beautiful women knew they were beautiful and most of them gave themselves too much credit. He scowled.

"It doesn't matter, you're not going to a ball, Pansy. We're not going to dance and I'm not sweeping you off to Malfoy Manor in a giant pumpkin. You probably shouldn't even buy new robes, they might get ruined knowing the wand-work of those stupid third years." As soon as he'd spoken he knew he'd said something wrong. Her lip quivered and she tilted her head back.

"Would you prefer I dressed like a common muggle? I thought you wanted to present yourself like a leader, well every leader has a woman to stand beside him and support him and I don't want to look _common_. We set the Slytherin aesthetic; I should look fashionable and professional. If we don't, it would hardly reflect well on either of us. Besides..." She looked darkly at him, "you're not going to demonstrate any...unforgivable...hexes on me. Are you..._Malfoy_?" Her voice had lowered several degrees, her body so close to his sending warning shivers through his body.

Personal space, like all of his possessions, Draco guarded fiercely. When someone else made the move to impinge on that space he took it as an insult. To wield that power, to show the confidence to use it on him, you had to have the ability to back up your convictions. His thoughts went to Potter, the nerve of that arrogant, scar-faced half-blood, to lay hands on him. He pushed the thoughts aside, the bruises were gone and the memories suppressed. He'd beat Potter in a fair dual; Potter had taken him by surprise that was all. But Pansy, she was never a surprise and she normally knew her place. He hated when women tried to assert themselves as equals; they were the fairer and the softer sex; if he wanted an equal he'd date a man. He was the one in charge, not Pansy and if she seriously thought pressing her body close to his would empower her in some way then she sadly underestimated him.

His gloved hands touched her face lightly, just traced the edge of her jaw. Her body arched upwards, her eyes darkening. He grinned lecherously, leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I think you'd rather like it if I put the imperial curse on you..."

"No, I wouldn't." She said dreamily, wrapping her arms around his waist. He stood still for a moment, eyes darting about Gladrags to see if anyone was eavesdropping. He took a step backwards and another and another, leading her gently and stealthily into the back of the dark store. He slid half of the robes hanging on a rack to the side, pulled her through after him and closed the robes over again.

"Draco, anyone could see us..." She half-hissed half-giggled.

He pushed her against the wall, his eyes staring darkly into her flushed face. "You like it. You like it when I use you." His voice was intentionally dipping lower and lower as he took her hands by her wrists and pressed them into the wall behind her.

"I do not." She pouted playfully.

"You do everything I say, without question. You're my slave," He kissed her deeply, pressing into her body rhythmically until she whimpered his name. "Let's make it official, _slave_. Imperio." He hadn't cast the spell, just whispered the word across her dampened lips. The chill of his breath made her shudder; her eyes were hooded and dark in the minimal light. He knew the effect it was having on her and he laughed inside, turned on by the power of it, loving her desire for him above all things.

The rack of black school robes shifted behind him but Pansy was too far gone to notice. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deliriously, not caring that anyone could hear her if she sighed too frequently, moaned too loudly. He was deliciously wicked and she loved him so much that it hurt. He laughed against her lips, wrapping her legs around his hips. He could stop and tell her to buy what she wanted, they were done in Hogsmeade. He could have backed off because the point was made, but she offered herself so willingly, anytime, anywhere...so why not? Why the hell not?

* * *

"Hi Colin...Dennis..." Ginny smiled at the over zealous boy in front of them way too brightly.

"Hullo Ginny! Guess what? I found this really wicked new Quidditch magazine, it's called 'Seek', you should see all the equipment they have for seekers now...Dennis agrees that Harry would go mad—"

"A bit late." Some fourth year muttered as they strode past. Hermione narrowed her gaze. Stupid slytherin.

"—so have you guys seen him? We bought about five backdated issues, you know, just in case he hadn't heard of it...that would be too bad, wouldn't it? So why not, I reckon? Do you think he'll like them?" Colin's eyes moved from Ginny's annoyed expression to Hermione's equally anxious one.

"Sure, Colin." She said.

"Colin, you don't happen to have your camera on you by any chance do you?" Ginny asked slowly, her eyes flicking somewhere at the back of Gladrags continuously.

"Actually, I'm glad you mentioned that, because silly me – I lost it." Colin looked sad for a moment, well as sad as Colin could look in his perpetually excited state. Hermione sighed in relief; she didn't like the calculating look on Ginny's face. "But mum and dad weren't too angry, they even let me buy this wicked new model!" He whipped out a new professional camera; a long four-inch lens was attached. "This one's even better because it's a _wizard_ model, my other was muggle, you know being muggleborn so I'm really excited about using it. Have you seen, Harry?"

"No, Colin." Hermione scowled.

"Is there film in that?" Ginny asked.

"Ginny—" Hermione started.

"Not yet, but I have five rolls in my—" Colin was cut off from his happy reply when Ginny snatched the plastic bag he was holding, she rummaged through it until she found a roll of film. She briskly snatched the camera from his hands.

"How do you get the film in it?" She asked. The curt tone of her voice must have been one Colin was familiar with, having been an acquaintance of Ginny's since first year. He tentatively took the film from her hand and placed it inside the camera. Ginny smiled at him. "Thank you, Colin."

"Welcome....uh...did you want me to get a photo of you?"

"No." She grinned and snatched the camera back. "You don't mind if I borrow this, do you Colin? You're such a lovely guy, I'll get it back to you in about two minutes." She twirled from her position and walked briskly down the aisle of violet and crimson, silk and cotton, _every_ sort of robe. Hermione, Colin and Dennis gaped after her.

"Uh...just wait right here, Colin." Hermione whispered.

"But that's my camera! Is she going to—"

"She won't steal it, she won't break it. I promise. There was just this robe she saw that she liked and she wanted to have a picture to show her mum."

"Oh, that's alright then because this one time—"

Hermione didn't wait around to hear this story. She quickly followed Ginny through the mass of Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade citizens. Ginny was in a very vengeful mood and she really did not want to know what Ginny had seen back here that she so desperately needed a photo of.

She found her crouched in the Hogwarts robes aisle, down low on the ground, fiddling with a gage on the side of the camera.

"Ginny, what are you—"

"Shhhhh...." She turned and smiled wickedly over her shoulder to Hermione. "Keep your voice down." She kept a finger to her lip, her eyes going to the side. Nothing was said but Hermione knew Ginny was asking her to listen. The store was a loud place, full of laughing students and the clink of coat hangers against metal racks. Beneath all of that, was another noise. Hermione leant forward, trying to make it out, it sounded like breathing..._heavy_ breathing. A half-squeak, half-moan caused Hermione to lurch backwards, her face distorting in astonishment.

"Um...." She pointed at the rack of robes which was moving slightly. Now that Hermione was looking she could just make out one pair of feet, facing the wall. "Is there someone..." No, she couldn't say it. She narrowed her eyes. "Well _I'm_ going to give them a piece of my mind, imagine doing a thing like that in a public place, how scandalous! We could be banned from visiting Hogsmeade if they get caught." Hermione went to stand but Ginny yanked her back down.

"_Shhh_." Ginny hissed. "They'll hear you."

"_They_?" Hermione blushed. She'd thought it was some guy...well...doing...you know...she coughed. No need to think about that and there was no way she wanted to rip open those robes to see a couple in there...doing...whatever it was they were doing.

"Don't you ruin this for me. I'm glad I found out Dean was a pillock early, so I can thank him for that, but if you think I'm going to let him get away with flashing my ass all over Slytherin house then you better stop deluding yourself!" _Malfoy?_ Hermione's nose turned up. If it was Malfoy, then it was Pansy in there with him. Hermione was glad she hadn't ripped the robes open, she knew she'd asked Malfoy how exactly pugs and ferrets copulate but she didn't want a live demonstration. "I saw him sneaking Parkinson over here and thought they might be playing find the ferret." Ginny smiled happily, waving the camera about.

"Ginny!" Hermione hissed. "You can't take a photo of them."

"I'm not going to take _a_ photo, I'm going to take _photos_."

"You'll have to move the robes out of the way." Hermione hissed lowly. Ginny shook her head.

"I'm so glad his old camera went missing." She turned to Hermione. "This is a wizarding camera, see this gage on the side...top of the line." Ginny grinned. "It can see through thin surfaces."

Hermione gasped, clutching at her robes. "That's disgusting, any pervert could take photos and see everyone naked!" Hermione was appalled, how could the Ministry of Magic let such a horrible invention go through? And now Colin had a camera like that? Why did he want to see _Harry_ so eagerly? Hermione shivered. She had better warn him.

"Don't look down on the pervy Hermione, you're about to join the ranks." Ginny aimed the camera. She started chuckling almost straight away. "Oooo so that's why the symbol for slytherin house is a serpent." She cackled and Hermione didn't ask whether or not she was just jokin.

Hermione didn't ask what she could see. She stared at the robes as they shifted slightly, tried to listen to the bustle of the midafternoon crowd instead of the faint heavy breathing, the occasionally squeaky and distinctly feminine gasp. Malfoy was so silent. She didn't want to think about it, but it was right there, and she could hear the camera snapping in her ear, and she could see his feet so still on the ground. Where were Pansy's feet? Best not to think of that.

"All done." Ginny's face was flushed and she pulled Hermione down the aisle. When they saw Colin coming toward them, Ginny squealed and pulled Hermione into the next aisle. "Get the film out."

"How did he put it in?" Hermione's hands were shaking as she fiddled with the camera. She felt horrible, she hated breaking rules and she was certainly no pervert. Ginny laughed and slid a small button down, the camera popped open and she scooped out the film.

"Ginny!" Hermione could hear Colin looking for her friend. Ginny pressed the film into Hermione's hand.

"I'll be right back." She said. Hermione glared at her.

"I'm going to destroy this film."

"No you won't. He deserves everything he gets." Ginny grinned and ran back to Colin with the camera.

It didn't matter if he deserved it; it was a horrible thing to do. She didn't want to be petty and malicious, if she'd wanted to be like that she would have been placed in Slytherin. She clutched the film tight, trying to wrap her fingers around it so no one could see it. It was a ridiculous thing to do, since nobody would know what was on the film until it had been developed, but she did it none the less.

Her hand started to shake, she felt the film move. "What the...?"

She looked up. Every cell in her body was filled with the urge to scream but she was too shocked for a sound to come out. There Draco Malfoy stood, wand pointing right at her. His face was as pale and porcelain smooth as it had been before Harry's attack; he'd been the victim so they'd healed him magically. _Victim_, Hermione wanted to scoff. He was _poison_. He _did_ deserve it, he deserved to have those bruises for weeks as well. His mouth was twisted in amusement, but his eyes were hard, unmoving and focused _through_ her face. It felt like he was boring through her eyes, seeking out her motives. Calculating. She clutched the film tighter and tried to look innocent. An innocent person probably wouldn't smile so widely at an enemy, but she was on edge and didn't have time to think.

"Would you like me to _sign_ that for you, Granger?" He said, tilting his head to the side. She tried to stop the flush but she had horribly, treacherous skin. She couldn't lie, her face went red too readily. He looked her face over with obvious disdain. "You pathetic, pervy little prude. Hand it over now." _A pervy prude? I bet not too many people are accused of being that in their life,_ Hermione thought.

"Hand over what?"

"Don't be obtuse. _Accio film_." He hissed.

Hermione clutched tighter, struggling to keep it in her hand. She was aware of how familiar this situation was, how ridiculously familiar. A pair of grey eyes eerily similar had looked mockingly at her through a Death Eater mask about six months ago. He'd hissed the same words and laughed as Harry held on. How ridiculous to hold a couple of pervy pictures to the same weight as that lost prophecy; the memory made her want to let go. She gripped tighter; she would never back down no matter how much she disagreed with Ginny.

"Stop trying to steal Ginny's film, or I'll have to report you."

"What do you think they'll say about Weaslette when they develop them?" He hissed scornfully, taking a threatening step closer. Hermione eyed his face warily, there wasn't even a slight rouge on his cheeks, even after he'd...she shook her head. He was completely numb. No pain nor pleasure.

"I'm willing to find out..._are you_?" Hermione glared. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out a blur of red hair exiting the shop with two other figures. _She mustn't have noticed, she'll come back though, she will._ Hermione just had to keep him distracted, she could feel him coming closer, _don't back down..._ "You weren't back there very long. Don't worry if Harry permanently damaged you, I'm sure you could afford someone to keep Pansy satisfied." She wasn't very good at insulting men but she'd learned long ago that they seemed to find it most offensive when you went for their labido. Draco was no different. A muscle beneath his eye twitched and he stepped closer, his heels clicking audibly on the wooden floor.

"As if you'd know anything about it you stupid virgin." He tried to '_accio_' the film one more time. Hermione held on and laughed at him. "Give it here, bitch." He lunged for her, his gloved hands grappling with her own as she tried to twist away.

"Stop it!" He trapped her to his body with one arm, crying out triumphantly when he twisted her arm behind her body, holding it up near her shoulder blades. She squeaked in pain, way too close to him to be comfortable. He winked sardonically, bringing his second arm around her in an attempt to ply her fingers open. "No!"

She wiggled desperately to try and get away but he was much stronger than she was and in the end she was just causing herself more pain. She grunted in frustration, resigned to hold on and glare. Her second hand was trapped between their bodies, unable to reach for her wand. She would not give him the satisfaction of calling for help. Already the sounds of their scuffle were drawing the eyes of the shop owner, the eyes of the crowd, students looking on nervously, strangers snickering about a lovers' tiff when they saw her flushed face.

"Merlin," he laughed, "I figured you would have given up by now. You must be really desperate to see me naked, Granger!" He drawled as he tried to pry her fingers open. Her indignation was enough to loosen her grip. He called out triumphantly until she took a page out of Ginny's book and slammed her heel down into his foot.

"AHHH!!" His grip loosened enough for her to shove him away and take two steps backwards. "Give it to me!!" He snarled, grabbing her other hand in an attempt to pull her back. This time she struggled, slapping at his hands. Had she stepped outside herself she might have laughed at the immaturity of it all, but she was too irritated to care. He finally caught her second wrist holding both of them near his chest. It was a temporary stale mate. She glared at him and he glared right back. If he released one of her wrists he knew she'd slap him, or worse. At the moment her claws were trapped...but he was also no closer to getting the film.

He looked over her face for a moment, then lowered his head close enough so she could feel his breath.

"What are you—" She lurched backwards in disgust and he used her shock to twist her wrist around again, the film came loose and tumbled into his hand.

"You stupid mudblood." He laughed. "As if I'd ever actually—"

"Grrrrrr!" Hermione grunted and let her wand slide from her sleeve in to her hand, "_ACCIO FILM!_" The film shot into her hand and she smiled smugly as Draco fumed. He always did talk too much. "Tell you what, Malfoy, you give me Dean's book and I'll give you the film!"

He laughed. "What sketch book?" His hard eyes looked down into hers, glints of humour causing wrinkles around the edges.

Hermione's eyes blazed. She wasn't Dean; she wouldn't believe whatever poison passed through his lips. He could even make the truth sound like a lie.

"Is that what she told you? I saw her picture in some _book_?" He laughed. "I fucked her, Granger. It was easy, I fucked her so well that she wants a few photos to remember the experience." He laughed that cold, mocking laugh, imitating Ginny's voice in the throws of passion.

Hermione felt an explosion of disgust and hate inside her system and she started attacking him right back. She twisted and kicked her feet, slamming her closed fists into his chest. He was more annoyed than hurt, his hands grappled for her own, driven to the film and the film alone.

"You disgusting pig!" She yelled, tempted to slap him but not game enough to risk opening herself up to a new attack. She was completely on Ginny's side now, she'd even help her friend find a way of blowing the pictures up and hanging them around the Great Hall instead of the house banners.

"Geez, Malfoy, I know Pansy must be lousy but no means no." Ginny's voice brought so much relief to Hermione's heart that she almost collapsed against Draco with a happy sigh. He tightened his grip even though Ginny had her wand out. Ginny walked behind Hermione quickly, Draco saw what she was about to do and tried to open Hermione's hand. "_Accio film_!" Ginny cried and Hermione released her grip, letting the film fly through Draco's fingers and into Ginny's. Draco froze, his hate-filled glare pinned to Hermione's flushed face. "If that's how bad your reflexes are, it's no small wonder why you suck at Quidditch Malfoy." Draco's hands tightened where they were on Hermione's wrists. She called out and this time she noticed. The strange hot, crawling sensation on her chest. She tried to focus on what it was, but couldn't place it.

"I'm already planning on hurting you badly, Mudblood, don't make it worse for yourself. Give me that film now."

"I don't have it any more, let me go!!" That crawling, scratching around her skin....what was it? She started to panic, seeing visions of fire and pain dance before her eyes, feeling Malfoy's cold grip tighten to a bruising level. Her heart was pounding alarmingly, the threat crowding around her until she became irrationally panicked. She shivered.

"Give it to me now!" He hissed over her shoulder, refusing to release Hermione until Ginny had tossed the film to him.

"LET ME GO!!" Hermione screamed. A roar filled the air between them; a blinding yellow light and a horrible force exploded pulling them violently apart.

Hermione screamed, careening backwards into a shocked Ginny then slamming into the ground. She shook in fright, as shocks of euphoric energy rushed through her, her hands tingled with static needles, her skin was strangely heated. She remembered now. She could vaguely hear the manager of Gladrags screaming angrily for them to get out of her store, they were scaring customers away...or rather attracting a crowd. Ginny was laughing, slapping Hermione on her back, congratulating her on concealing her wand so well before she attacked. But Hermione _hadn't_ concealed her wand, it had been tucked up in her sleeve the whole time.

"I think Sparky has a few more surprises than I expected..." She whispered, trying her best to smile. Ginny told her Krum was a genius, but Hermione herself felt like a fool. She should have known better than to wear a dangerous charm in public. Who knew what had triggered that violent outpouring of power? Hermione obviously couldn't control it herself. She felt her neck, found the chain and yanked it out of her robes. Horror filled her. Sparky was missing, that stupid salamander charm she _knew_ she shouldn't have worn it. How would she explain this?

Ginny was standing up now, talking with the manager, "no, we don't know why he attacked us, we were just browsing for new school robes. We always thought he was a bit mentally unhinged, slytherin you know..."

Hermione crawled forward, searching the floor for the shiny golden charm she knew had to be responsible. She found Sparky sitting one metre from her, its belly charred black, its fire barely visible, cleaning its clawed feet languorously.

"You!" She hissed through her teeth and scooped it up. It looked at her tiredly, but she didn't care if it died from fatigue. She shoved it into her robe pocket, buttoning the pocket shut tightly. Strangely, Draco Malfoy had not moved. He was lying beneath one of the racks, she'd heard him slam into it but I hadn't fallen on top of him. They must be charmed to remain standing. He was curled into a foetal position, his hands moving over his face, emitting a strange coughing, whimpering noise.

"Hermione, we have to go." Ginny cut herself off when she became aware of Malfoy. She scoffed, "is he _crying_? You know I really thought his balls would have dropped by now but it seems he's going to be a wimp for life." Ginny rolled her eyes, growing up in a large household of men had made her pretty unsympathetic to pain. "Oh get up, it was just a fancy light trick."

Malfoy shoved himself to his feet, his hands didn't leave his face and he pushed past Ginny running from the store. Ginny called after him, asking if he'd forgotten his girlfriend by any chance? Ginny didn't see what Hermione did.

Hermione reached out a tentative hand, her bottom lip quivered in fear. She crawled forwards to where Malfoy had been lying, touched a hand to the dark spots on the ground. Warm and wet, the sensation sickened her, the liquid drops on the ground were fresh. When she pulled her hand back to look at it, she saw the dark red stains and almost choked. What had she done to him? Hermione stood to her feet, unsure whether she had given Ginny an excuse for her retreat before she ran after Malfoy. It felt insane, it _was_ insane to care, but some small part of her did. She'd never want to hurt him, humiliating him was completely different.

Outside she shoved blindly through the crowd, she couldn't see his glinting hair, the crowd was bustling around her, the Winter wind coloured her warm body and stilled her for a moment. Her blood felt chilled, stagnant with fear. Blood. She looked down, shoving at the bodies attempting to get past her into Gladrags.

"Hermione?" Ginny called.

Hermione's eyes widened in victory when she saw a few drops of blood, already turning pink in the snow. Left. She swung to the left, trying to find other traces, following his footsteps was hopeless since the Hogsmeade snow had been walked on so many times today that it had become a soggy brown sludge, a mixture of mud and melted ice. When she'd given up hope of finding him, she heard a familiar noise coming from an alley. She stopped. No way was she following him into an alley. He wasn't bleeding that much; a few drops on the ground inside, a few more outside. For all she knew he had burst a blood blisterpod and was leading her into a trap. Then he coughed, a hacking, wet spluttering sound that made her lip curl in disgust. It didn't sound fake and she was responsible.

Hermione drew her wand and walked toward the alley, cursing Viktor and Ginny and that stupid salamander charm that had smiled so wickedly at her this morning. She should have stayed at Hogwarts.

She walked into the mouth of the alley, he wasn't too far down, she could see him, a dark clothed figure, leaning up against the wooden brick wall. His forehead rested against the line of his wrist, his breathing was laboured, splintered with hacking coughs that made his body buckle weakly at the knees and collapse a little closer to the wall. She didn't call his name, she felt afraid. Not afraid of Malfoy, she'd _never_ be scared of him. He was slow to draw his wand, all talk and very little talent as far as Hermione was concerned. So she was very confused by the fear making her diaphragm clench and her wand hand shake. A breeze cut through the alley, a wind tunnel sweeping with a force that stuck like a knife through Hermione. She gasped, her body tightening. He heard her, she knew because his shoulders stiffened.

When he turned it was to lie against the wall, his hands came up to cover his face and he flinched, his lips grimacing. "Who's there?"

She opened her mouth to snap 'who do you think?' but then he opened his eyes. A choked scream escaped her mouth instead and she staggered backwards.

"Who's there?" His voice was back to normal now, a cold, unnaturally hard hiss. But Hermione was too stunned to react like she normally would.

His lips were a twisted red, his chin was stained lightly with a trickle of blood, sticky but motionless. It was his eyes. They were still grey somewhere beneath the horror, still piercing and hollow and hateful, but Hermione couldn't see any of that. She only saw the lost, blind confusion and the tears. Those distinct, coloured tears; an unmistakable ripple of blood that shaded his iris a strange crimson. She stood completely still and watched one bloody tear trickle down his cheek, mesmerised, haunted, horrified...

TBC...

* * *

_A/Ns: _

_1) 'vervorm' means 'distort' in dutch. (as in the 'vervorm' mirror)_

_2) Professor Finnish beliongs to Hans Christian Anderson...although she wasn't a Professor in his book obviously, so I guess that makes her sort of OC_

_3) The line "all beautiful women know their beautiful and most give themselves more credit than they desserve' was actually said by the great Marlon Brando, and I've always found it hilarious, and sardonically true. Very Draco._

_4) For all of those who wanted to know Harry's fate and are annoyed with me...you'll learn what happened to both Harry and Draco in the next chappie. So stay tuned and if you like the fic, please leave feedback like these lovely people:_

Feedback:

Snow-Queen1: I'm really glad you enjoyed Seamus, because comedy is not my thing, I'm normally an angst writer, so it's painfully hard for me to write. Yay! I'm trying to get Draco as close to canon as possible, I didn't want to turn him into a blond james bond/harry was is powerful and sexual. Draco is a witty coward in the books, and though I'm stretching him further when it comes down to it, I'm hoping he'll be a lot like Rowling's Draco. Here's hoping. Thankyou so much for your continued support, it means heaps to me.

chibimecools: Thanks for the feedback it means a lot, I hope you liked this chapter.

otakuannie: kiss kiss back. Keep letting me know what you think, good or bad, but I'm glad it's all good at the moment.

mariona: phew, thanks for the support about Harry, I was worried I'd get flamed, I think he has way too much anger, and such a virile temper, it would be a shame not to explore what that could mean to him. I'm glad you agree.


	6. Chapter Five: disorientation

_Hey guys, sorry for how long it took me to update this story. I have a lot of stories in another fandom, so I tend to update the more popular ones first. I will keep updating this, even if it doesn't seem that way, because I have a soft spot for this fic. Please be patient. _

_Replies to feedback are as usual at the bottom of the page, the lyrics are by Silverchair as usual as well. _

**Chapter Five: (dis)orientation**

_When your world's not feeling ugly  
And the world's not too much  
Take the world upon your shoulders  
And burn, burn, burn, burn, burn_

-- world upon your shoulders

"LET ME GO!!" Hermione screamed. A roar filled the air between them; a blinding yellow light and a horrible force exploded yanking them violently apart.

_There is nothing so bright as sunlight across snow._

**Five**

Draco's body moved so fast, he didn't realise his feet had left the ground until his face had taken their place.

_He could hear the wind blowing through his hair, his skull and brain. Cutting straight through everything._

**Four**

The corner of a coat rack is sharp, his limbs instantly became sickeningly loose when his temple met that sharp edge. He didn't move again. He gasped in air but the breath stuck in his throat, shuddering out in a poisonous rush. And something was wrong because it shouldn't hurt this much.

_He could hear the ragged pants of his frightened breathing. Run, run, run, as fast as you can..._

_You **can** catch me._

_Run._

**Three.**

Fumbling in the dark, the clouds, the sticky substance on his face. Feet don't work, and how is there light in the darkness? And the pain pain _pain_ banging on his head like a drum. _LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!_ It hurts too much. He ran blindly through the dark.

_He heard the crack before the fall, and his scream was drowned by the fast shift straight down, the smothering water that rose in a torrent above his face, the scream so silent--_

_"FAATH--"_

**Two.**

He could feel the wall but he couldn't see it. The rattle of the garbage cans made his heart skitter in his chest. He was a sewer rat, nothing more. His aristocratic blood was burning in his veins, his cheeks squirming as if insects had invaded him and made their nest.

_Pain, pain, splinters, suffocating, hands thrashing, can't swim, drowning, but the pain is WORSE, and ice BURNS, can't get out, mother! can't get out, closed over, not freezing but skin peeling back, and this is the opposite of melting and the pain is horrible, kill me, let me drown, let me die, and stabbing and ripping, chest concaving and...._

**One.**

"Who's there?" The sounds of clicking heels and a feminine gasp. He stiffened. Repeated the question.

She said something, he felt it across his forehead. Couldn't see, could remember, could tremble and touch her back. Her voice was nothing but comfort.

"One more...kiss." He whispered drowsily.

_"No...no more kisses for you, if I do, then I'll kiss you to death."_

_Her hand dropped away and he could breathe again._

Darkness.

**Time.**

He ran as fast as he could, not daring to look behind him, though he could hear the creature giving chase. It made no sound as it ran, no tell-tale crunch of footsteps through snow - instead he heard the ghostly whisper, like an unwelcome caress down his back, "Draco...Draco...Draco..."

He didn't stop to think what might become of his father, if he had followed close after. He was too terrified to think of anything but that horrid face, and those sharp transparent teeth that had grinned at him, gnashing over too-pale lips. Malfoy's protected themselves...and then their family. She'd touched his hand, pulled him to his feet and the chill invading his chest had plunged into freezing. The next thing he knew he was running, he didn't care how it happened, or how long he could keep it up, he was just running. Running for his life.

He had fallen, face first into the snow. He hated to travel by floo, he hated it especially when his favourite robes were damaged. Now he had nothing to fear, he gave no care to the fact he was covered head to toe in melting snow, water dribbling down into frost stalactites at the end of his nose. His lips were blue, but thankfully numb. His hand clenched around the rose his mother had given him, he could feel the thorns ripping into his palm and it was comforting. His blood was still warm. He sobbed a little more, wincing in pain as the pinch in his eye returned fiercer than ever. He couldn't help it, his body's reaction was only making it worse, but why should he care? He would be dead soon anyway.

The whisper continued and it was mocking him now, like his father sometimes did when he was displeased. Such a creature should never be so light footed, such a place should never exist in the floo connection. How could fire bring you to a Kingdom of ice? Draco stumbled, his small feet slipped sending him crashing to the ground. His hands shot out to brace his fall, leaving red stripes in his spinning wake when his hands scraped along the ice beneath him. He cried out in pain, pushing gingerly to his knees. He looked about him, he'd somehow run across a lake, almost to the other side.

The rose was crushed, a couple of metres away. Insanely Draco felt choked with horror, seeing it lying abandoned and blood sodden so far away. His heart lurched and he dove toward it, scrambling across the ice when his legs slipped. His hand closed around it and he grinned clutching it close to him.

"I want to go home mummy." He sobbed at the flower as if it was a portkey that would tug him safely back to her embrace. But the flower was wilted and it did nothing but lie limp and sneer at him.

When he sat up, a loud crack split the silence in half. But the sound hadn't come from a twig behind him. Beneath....him? Before he could scream, a sharp clap sounded again, the ice beneath him split out in fractures rather than a single schism, and he was falling. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing more than a whimper sounded before he was completely smothered by water, the force stronger than the sound. From a distance the black smear that had been his fleeing form vanished completely. The blanket of white sky merged too closely with the iced lake for the horizon between to be visible. And underneath the ice, his figure thrashed beyond reason, completely unseen.

He was too panicked to swim toward the surface when his cloak was attacking him so ferociously, throttling him like a river faerie daring him to drown. He could hear a tune, hauntingly loud under water. He'd heard it many times, to comfort him through thunder and storms. He screamed underwater, but his hand still clutched the rose, and the soft sounds of a friendly voice continued to carol about a magic dragon.

His eyes burned and he couldn't open them the pain was too horrible. His brain was being squeezed, his stomach sliced open by thousands of tiny, tiny needles. And _'father, father, father, help'_ was drowned out by a smothering evil, all around, crawling down his throat and he couldn't Ibreathe./I

Suddenly a crack opened the ice above, and a pale hand shot down to him, yanking him fiercely from the water. His body slid limply along the lake to thicker ice, he was too tired to pay attention to the hag that was probably going to eat him. His whole body was shaking, his muscles cramped with rigour, his fingers hooking rigidly under until they hovered above the crucible of his palm. His lungs were choked by ice water, his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

_"Draco..."_

The voice was soothing. He tried to speak but could only grunt. Eyes wide and glued open, glassy with oncoming death.

"Who's there?"

_"Draco..."_

He didn't feel the hand that cupped his tiny face, arching it back, toward her. Her lips caressed his skin. His forehead prickled, and amazingly his body began to relax, his breathing steadied and the stabbing pain in his mind eased. He could feel her fingers now, tracing his brow. Her lips dropped again.

_"Draco, can you hear me?"_

He nodded against her arms. The weight on his chest eased slightly, his mind settled down from stasis. Magic, of course! He clutched on to her arms where they were wrapped around his slight shoulders. He clutched tightly. He could vaguely see her. Her hair was long and glowed etherally around her face, her blue eyes a stark contrast to her snow white face. Her lips were ripe with blood, but all other features merged together. She looked like his mother and maybe she _was_. She had said she would protect him and she had been with him under the water. Those blood red lips swiped his forehead again and Draco sighed. She swiped at the warm dampness on his face and he murmured childishly to himself.

"One more...kiss."

"No, no more kisses for you, if I did, I'd kiss you to death."

His eyes heavy with fatigue, closed slowly until sleep carried him away.

* * *

**Hogwarts, present day**.

"I gave you one day. I trust you're feeling a little more amenable today...lemon drop?"

Harry glared at the man twinkling annoyingly across the desk.

"There's no need for you to wear such a sour face if you aren't partaking of my lemon drops, Harry." Dumbledore unwrapped his own and popped it into his mouth, smacking his lips together with giddy pleasure. "They're quite good you know."

Harry turned his head away and looked out the window, he didn't need to be patronised or treated like a child about to have his first injection. He had not been a child for a long time.

"Do you want to talk about what happened with Mr Malfoy?"

"I'm sure Snape has already told you everything."

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry." He automatically corrected with a wry, raised eyebrow. "I'd much rather hear it from you."

"I'm sure he told it accurately."

"Hmmm, that's a shame." Dumbledore drummed his fingers on the desk with a regretful sigh. " I think I would have rather liked to see you transfigure into your father and Lord Voldemort simultaneously. Quite a good party trick I wish you'd told me you could do that earlier, I could have added you to the acts for this years Christmas dinner." Dumbledore frowned at Harry in mock disapproval. Harry slammed his hand into the arm of his chair.

"Stop. Doing. That."

"I have far too many bad habits, Harry, perhaps you could be more specific."

"Stop making a joke out of this, it isn't funny."

"Hmm, what is it then?" Dumbledore looked down his crooked nose, in that concerned paternal manner that Harry had truly detested since July. But Harry had no answer. After a moment Dumbledore nodded to himself. "Would you prefer it if I reprimanded you in some way? You will have a detention, don't fret. I could dock you a few points as well if it will keep you happy."

"My happiness has always been a great concern of yours, hasn't it?" Harry snarled. Some of the light faded from Dumbledore's eyes and Harry felt a strange swell of pride in his chest. He'd wanted to hurt him and he wasn't sorry he'd succeeded.

"You could always break a few more of my trinkets, unfortunately your Spring cleaning venture the last time you were in my office only managed to put a dent into my collection. I do have rather too much clutter, don't I?" Dumbledore tilted his head back in his chair, his fingers drumming together. The portraits of past Headmasters all shuffled nervously as Dumbledore's contemplative eyes swept over them. A slight smile curled the Headmaster's lips. "So...Harry?"

"I attacked Malfoy." Harry said bluntly.

"Yes. You did. I did notice. May I ask why?"

"Because I obviously didn't hit him hard enough last year. When is my detention?" He hadn't looked in the old man's eyes since that initial glare. He was still aware of something that Dumbledore was trying his best to ignore. The hate inside Harry really did grow whenever he was around his Headmaster. Whatever they all said, Harry knew something that they didn't. He did have a snake inside of him, and it was getting stronger every day. He didn't need to tempt it to strike.

"Harry...I know you are angry with me, and you have every right to be. But don't be angry with yourself, and don't let that anger destroy you. You have suffered more tragedy than any person deserves especially a wizard with a heart like yours. I don't mean to make out like your tragedies are mere comedies to me...I've just always felt that when one wants to cry it is best to laugh, or you could drown in tears. It is much better to crack a rib with hearty guffawing don't you think?" The words were heard but Harry couldn't _listen_. He felt a pinching at the back of his eyes, a clenching in his chest where his heart longed to rail against his mind and scream until he passed out with fatigue. But there was also that gnashing sensation, that impatience which had been cutting the tether of his temper to a finer and finer string every day. Harry clenched his jaw to subdue everything and he stared at Armando Dippet's portrait on the wall. The old Headmaster had been gazing at him with admonishment and exasperation but when Harry caught him he quickly closed his eyes and rolled over in his armchair, opening his mouth in a large, stage snore.

"Harry?"

Harry's eyes snapped back to Dumbledore's. Away again.

"I want Professor Snape to teach me occlumency." He barely opened his mouth to grit out the words. Professor Dumbledore paused, eyes flicking over Harry's blank face, startled.

"Certainly, if that's how you feel. I am fully prepared to take on that occupation myself now ,as you well know. But Professor Snape can be made available if that is your wish. I am very glad you've decided to continue your study, it is very important Harry."

"I know. I would...I want Snape to teach me."

"I can't allow that if your intention is to stage some kind of disagreement with your Potions professor. He did tell me that you had attacked him as well, Harry."

"I didn't." Harry looked up into his Headmaster's eyes this time. Dumbledore was a legilimens too, he would see the truth. "I would be far more satisfied if I had. But I wasn't brave enough."

"Hmm, I had hoped it was _sense_ rather than fear that dissuaded you from that course." Dumbledore sighed and leaned toward Harry over his desk. "I can't allow you to attack a teacher. In fact, I can't allow you to attack students. I can't keep asking Professor McGonagall to grant you concessions during your grieving period." Harry looked away. Period. He hated that word. He hadn't even known his parents and the grief was still there gnawing away in some corner of his heart. Sirius, he had touched, Sirius had died for him...because of him. There was no period. Grief was an abyss inside him that could never be closed up again.

"I never asked for your lenience." There was one thing that hadn't change between them. Harry couldn't help but reveal his emotions to the shrewd man, and the Headmaster was perfectly capable of drawing out the reaction that he wanted. His eyes twinkled.

"I won't expel you Harry, try all you like. But I am sure the lavatories will be sparkling quite nicely by the end of the term. I'm sure the lovely Miss Myrtle will be pleased by your company." He held back his laugh, but smiled warmly. "You know I won't expel you. I _can't_ expel you."

"I don't want that." Harry's eyes shot back down, guiltily.

"Of course you do. But it's not that you don't want to be here Harry, you don't want to be anywhere. There are people here who care for you, who want to understand how you are feeling, to help you cope."

"Help. Me. Cope?" Harry appeared confused by the question.

"They can only help you if you help them understand."

Harry barely held in a bark of cruel laughter. Help them understand? "How could they possible understand??" He hissed without realising he had chosen to speak. No, he wasn't the first person to have grieved, but surely each instance was completely different and he knew no one that shared the guilt he felt.

"If you like I can invite Remus Lupin to the school--"

"Why would I want that?" Harry's bottom lip had started to quiver, his scar to itch.

"He did know...Sirius longer than you, Harry. They were very close. He's grieving as well. It is important to share what you're feeling with someone who understands wh--"

"I have to go meet Ron." Harry spoke quickly, he shot to his feet.

"Wait a moment, Harry," Dumbledore reached for his quill. Harry's confusion was the only thing that made him pause while Dumbledore took his time writing a note, then signed every single one of his names at the bottom. He smiled pleasantly while Harry glowered. "Give this to Professor Snape and I'm sure he'll be only to happy to oblige you with your extra lessons."

Harry snatched the note from Dumbledore's hand and hurried to the door. When it was closed behind him he paused for a moment, back to the wood, eyes closed tight. But soon he was walking, steady and slow, through the antechamber toward the spiral staircase.

* * *

Hermione drew her wand and walked toward the alley, cursing Viktor and Ginny and that stupid salamander charm that had smiled so wickedly at her this morning. She should have stayed at Hogwarts.

She walked into the mouth of the alley, he wasn't too far down, she could see him, a dark clothed figure, leaning up against the wooden brick wall. His forehead rested against the line of his wrist, his breathing was laboured, splintered with hacking coughs that made his body buckle weakly at the knees and collapse a little closer to the wall. She didn't call his name, she felt afraid. Not afraid of Malfoy, she'd _never_ be scared of him. He was slow to draw his wand, all talk and very little talent as far as Hermione was concerned. So she was very confused by the fear making her diaphragm clench and her wand hand shake. A breeze cut through the alley, a wind tunnel sweeping with a force that stuck like a knife through Hermione. She gasped, her body tightening. He heard her, she knew because his shoulders stiffened.

When he turned it was to lie against the wall, his hands came up to cover his face and he flinched, his lips grimacing. "Who's there?"

She opened her mouth to snap 'who do you think?' but then he opened his eyes. A choked scream escaped her mouth instead and she staggered backwards.

"Who's there?" His voice was back to normal now, a cold, unnaturally hard hiss. But Hermione was too stunned to react like she normally would.

His lips were a twisted red, his chin was stained lightly with a trickle of blood, sticky but motionless. It was his eyes that caught her. They were still grey somewhere beneath the horror, still piercing and hollow and hateful, but Hermione couldn't see any of that. She only saw the lost, blind confusion and the tears. Those distinct, coloured tears; an unmistakable ripple of blood that shaded his iris a strange crimson. She stood completely still and watched one bloody tear trickle down his cheek, mesmerised, haunted, horrified.

He coughed again, arching slightly against the wall. He chuckled, not quite hysterically, but she guessed he wasn't far off because she saw nothing funny about this. Clutching her wand tightly, she jogged to him, crouching down to examine the steady stream of blood pooling on the rim of his eyelid before flooding and trickling down his cheek.

"Draco..." She said. Was she supposed to apologize? She wouldn't. He deserved something horrible to happen to him. She just hadn't expected it would be her giving him what he deserved, she's expected that, as usual, Ron or Harry would do something rash and she'd be able to condemn their ire later. That was how their system worked. She had never intended to hurt him in the first place. She pushed the thoughts building in the back of her mind further away. It would all be better once she'd cleaned him up, made him somehow kind enough to forgive and forget (HA!), walked back to Hogwarts, had a hysterical fit in the shower including a violent rant about Krum and the neck she wished he'd broken when he crashed into the ground during the world cup two years ago, then she'd go to sleep wake up and this would all have been a nightmare. Good plan. But first things first...

"Draco...can you hear me?" Her hand hovered over his cheek, unsure whether she should touch his face when she wasn't sure where exactly the injury was. She gasped when he arched off the wall, his face curled into her hand, nose nuzzling like an eager puppy's into her palm. _Well, a puppy that had recently mauled something to death_, she amended when she felt the blood on his cheeks swipe against her palm. She pushed back on his face lightly to lean his head against the wall. Draco was definitely delirious, he protested with a whiny groan, grappling with her robes and her hands blindly. This might have been amusing if she didn't hate him so much. Tentatively she removed her hand from his cheek. He protested instantly, sitting back up. She shoved him less gently to the wall again.

"Stay." When he obeyed she was tempted to murmur, 'good dog' but somehow held herself back.

"It burns..." He choked. She frowned with worry.

"Shhh. I'm not going to hurt you." She said, just in case he was aware of her even though he wasn't expressing it. She raised her wand and aimed it square between his eyes. "_Scourgify_." The blood on his cheeks and lips was instantly wiped away. But it didn't stop the flow of tears. Hermione frowned. There was no trace of a head injury, or cuts to his cheeks, mouth or forehead. It was just his eyes. "Oh Viktor...how do I fix this?"

"Just one..." He whispered.

"What?" She leaned forward to hear him better. She placed her head above his shoulder so that her ear was closer to his lips. He jerked his head back when her hair tickled his cheek. Her hand raised up to the side of his neck to keep him in place and calm.

"One what? Do you know how to fix this?"

"Just one more...kiss." He whispered, his head turned the slightest fraction so that his pointed nose scraped along the side of her cheek. Hermione reeled backwards in horror, jerking her hands from his face. _Oh dear...one more for St Mungo's tonight. I fried his brain!_ True it had some dodgy circuitry to start with but she was sure she'd given him a bit more damage than there'd been a few minutes ago. One more kiss?? If only Ginny had a muggle video camera with her, she'd have all the revenge you could ever want against a Malfoy.

"Forget it, _Malfoy_." She snapped, and readied her wand to try some healing spells.

Her sudden motion caused him to break out of his stupor. He flinched, jerking a foot off the ground into the air, his hands shot out to grip her wrists and Hermione yelped. Eyes wide. He shouldn't be able to move so fast in this state, the shock made her body stiffen against him. His eyelids blinked rapidly, as if an eyelash had fallen inside, then he growled in frustration, squeezing her wrists tight.

"Damn it Pansy, just give me the damn cigarettes and stop acting like such a mudblood."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, she gabbled silently for a moment, jaw dropping open then shutting again. She was finding it very difficult to be compassionate and caring right at this--

"GIVE IT TO ME!!" He roared.

"LET ME GO!!" She yelled with the same passion.

He released her hands. It was done quickly, but without a trace of fear. In fact, his head tilted to the side, his finger sliding along her wrist as he released her. The stroke of his fingers felt almost intentional, which twisted Hermione's stomach up with disgust. It was the look on his face that made a weight plunge inside her stomach. He didn't look at _Pansy_ like that. Thank Merlin, he couldn't see her.

She shuffled backwards and he tilted his head, listening to her but doing nothing to stop her obvious retreat. Blood had started to run from his eyes more earnestly. Hermione gagged, she shuffled backwards on her hands and feet, then shot to a standing position. With no hesitation she sprinted back toward Gladrags. If it was Pansy he wanted she had absolutely no arguments to offer.

Pansy was easy to find, fluffing her short dark hair in a mirror as the witch behind the counter handed her a large bag of purchases. Hermione froze. She stared at the Slytherin girl, trying to figure out a way of getting her into the alley without sounding like she was leading the girl into a trap, or incriminating herself.

"Is Malfoy still sobbing like Cho gone drag?" A girl's voice laughed behind her.

Hermione whipped around to frown disapprovingly at Ginny. From the corner of her eye she could see that Pansy had stopped moving away from the counter, she was lingering by one of the cloak racks pretending to be admiring the gauche leopard skin patterns of discontinued stock.

Hermione coughed. "I don't know, I went to er...pick up some books....and er...last I saw him he was wondering down the alley beside the shop, maybe he got something _in his eye_." Ok, so subtlety wasn't her strong point, but brains were not Pansy's strong point either. Best to be direct.

"Geez Hermione you don't have to talk so loud, I'm right here." Ginny chuckled, rubbing at her ear in protest. Hermione wasn't paying attention. A certain Slytherin pug had just shoulder barged past her, and taken out two Ravenclaws on her way out the door.

* * *

Harry didn't waste time, he was almost looking forward to it when he marched toward Snape's office in the dungeons. He ignored the warning making his heart pound faster. Snape had told him never to come back. It's a good thing Harry prided himself on _not_ listening to Snape. His closed fist pounded into the wood three times.

No response.

Just to be annoying he started hammering his knuckled repetitively until the door was swung open.

"_What?_" Snape's eyes looked over Harry's smirking face with a sneer of distaste. "I should have known. What, may I ask, have I done to deserve the displeasure of your...visit?" The last word was rolled off his tongue so fiercely that it sounded more like a hiss.

Harry merely held up a slip of paper for the Potion's Master to read. Snape showed no emotion as he read over the note, but it certainly took him a long time to get through a paragraph. When he finished he slowly and precisely folded the piece of paper three times, then cast a tight lipped Iincendio/I to remove the evidence. The very precision of the Potion Master's movement made Harry think he wanted nothing more than to screw the piece of paper into a ball, or tear it to pieces.

Harry made to move past Snape, but the older man slammed his hand on the other side of the door to block his entry. "I don't have time to waste on you today, Mr Potter. Your remedial potions lesson will take place once a week. I'll tell you when your presence is required in my office, until then, strut your abnormally large head back to Gryffindor tower like a good little hero."

"Yes, _sir_." Harry saluted him, pivoted on his foot and did his best to do exactly what his Professor had told him to do. After all, he was determined to be a diligent student this semester. He heard the door slam behind him, but didn't flinch, he just steadied the exaggerated strut into his normal stroll and laughed sardonically.

He was so caught up with his own emotions that he didn't notice the figure standing further down the hall, watching him retreat with calculatingly cold eyes.

TBC...

iAuthors Notes: The line "No more kisses for you, if I did, I'd kiss you to death." is taken directly from the Snow Queen.

If you like this story, please leave feedback like these nice people:/i

* * *

**foxxglove:** Thankyou for taking the time to not just post a 'please update' message, but give me some real feedback. Most people don't have the time to do that, so I really appreciate it when it happens. I'm sorry about my occasionaly typos, aside from the obvious English/American spelling differences, I am sometimes a lazy editor. Hopefully it doesn't annoy you too much. I'm glad you're enjoying all the characters, because I was worried no one would be interested in the Harry subplot.

**midnightdimunds:** Hey there :) I am so, so, so happy you seem to be enjoying my story, just seeing feedback from you makes me happy. You will find out about the charm in time (zip). I think you can understand taking Ginny's character and running with it. lol She is a bit two dimensional in the books, so I did change some things, and exaggerate other things. She did pose for Dean, but they were in a serious relationship so I don't really see that as bad - until things went awry of course.

**Crystallized snow: **I'm sorry I don't update much, I primarily write in another fandom, and since my stories there are a little more popular - I prioritise them before this. I will try and update as fast as I can :) I'm glad you like the story.

**human-amusement:** hehe I love cliffhangers, but there shouldn't be too many in this story until later mwahahahaha.

**one crimson tie: **You totally teased me with an update the other day. I got an author alert about a new chappie of 'Everything I know' but when I clicked the link, the chapter didn't exist. You big tease!! I should spank you. Aside from that, thank you for dragging your cute self over here to leave feedback. Makes me feel all snuggly.

**otakuannie: **Adventures of Sparky the charm, coming up soon :)

**Snow-Queen1:** Thankyoouuu for leaving feedback all the time :) :) :) I love you so much. lol I hope you haven't caught on to the story too much, but I'm glad the direction is becoming clear for at least one person :) I'm certainly trying my damndest to keep you enjoying this fic. Sorry for the delay.

**chibimecools: **LOL You're very random :) I like it. The snow-queen is already starting to come into it. Especially in this chapter...and soon.

**Sugar-coated Sushi: ** I'm sorry to hear that you hate Ginny (although to tell you the truth I really, really hate her character, I guess that hatred is bleeding into my fic.lol) If you like Draco's crying, stick around because the poor boy seems to always be in tears. He's a sap I tell you. hehe

**RisingRen: **Thanks for the constructive criticism, I always love that. I'm glad you're getting a little more interested in the story, and i'm very glad you haven't worked out the story yet, because that would ruin the mystery completely. hehe I planned this fanfic from the start so there is absolutely no chance of it going all over the place, I promise. On the subject of Harry taking over the story - his subplot will be integral for the Draco/hermione plot come the end of the story, so I hope it doesn't annoy you too much if I dabble with his concerns. I was going for realism, and I don't think it would be realistic if I didn't deal with Harry a little bit after Sirius's death. I'll try not to go overboard ;) Thanks again :)

**autumnblues: **Thanks for the encouragement. The lack of feedback won't dissuade me from writing this fanfic, don't worry. I'm not sensitive about my writing at the moment. Plus, this is my holiday fic :) I'll try and stay as close to canon as possible, that was the plan, but I hope you'll forgive a couple of changes here and there.

THANKYOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT AND SUPPORT!!

B xxxxxx


	7. Chapter Six: Revenge Comes in Threes

_Authors Notes: I apologise for how long this took to write, I hope no intention of abandoning this fanfic so please be patient. If you'd like to see notes on when on when I'll be updating simply visit my livejournal under polarthestral :)_

**Chapter Six: Revenge Comes in Threes**

_To my son,_

_Your letter distressed me deeply but not for the reason you feared it would. Am I to understand you feel threatened by this muggle? This thing that should be nothing to you but an annoyance? Your neurotic hesitations never fail to amuse me but this time you have gone too far. First you allow this filth to photograph a romantic liaison between yourself and the unflappable Miss Parkinson, then you wrestle her in public and are overpowered by a girl, then you cry in front of all of Hogsmeade and run whimpering from a female clothing store? Did I miss anything my very own magnetic charm for family embarrassment? Do not think you are the only one who keeps in correspondence with me, and do not think I am the only one who has heard news of your disgrace._

_This unfortunate event that, due to your childish temper, occurred two days ago will go no further. You were always of a rather delicate condition; nothing I have done has been able to clean your body of this illness. If she has further damaged you (though even Salazar would have considered this impossible) you will remain as far away from her as possible until I can trust you to handle the problem. Do nothing. I do not want her irritating tendency to interfere in our business encouraged by your fumbling attempts to deflect her attention._

_Use whatever Slytherin spirit still resides beneath your robes. Retribution for her disrespect must come at the opportune time. You will be told when to act._

_L. Malfoy_

The parchment and its even, crisp lettering crumpled easily in Draco's hand. The rage that had caused him to kick his legs and scream for ten minutes on end when he was younger was welling up inside him. He could hear his fellow slytherins at work behind him, he could see them in the glass of the window he was leaning against. Halfway open, the crisp Winter air cut across his torso, his hard gaze looked fiercely at the reflection. For a target.

Pansy was showing Crabbe the wand movement again. Some fifth year was pointing and laughing as Crabbe dropped his wand. Goyle moved behind the fifth year threateningly. He stopped laughing. Crabbe dropped his wand again. Draco's fist clenched around the paper then flicked it aside, counting the seconds in his head until…

The paper incinerated. Nothing but a pile of ash remained. With one vicious swipe the ash tumbled from the windowpane and was swept up in the wind outside, dispersing and disappearing from the livid boys view.

The curses continued to fly behind him, as his eyes fell on the smoke billowing out of that run down shack by the Forbidden Forest. They were in there. But he was to leave her alone. Draco's hand tightened on the windowpane. He wasn't accustomed to quelling his temper.

"Drakie. Darling." A breathless Pansy came up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she nuzzled between his shoulder blades. "Good news I hope? Is your father glad to be out of that horrid place?" Draco stiffened beneath her grip. She laughed softly, playing with the back of his robes. "Drakie, Darling….Vincent is a dunderhead."

"Channelling Professor Snape today are we?" He bit down on the urge to mock her more intensely; it was getting harder and harder.

"Seriously how he's still in school, I…" she laughed, shaking her head, "he has dropped his wand five times, Merlin Draco, I thought he was going to take out my eye."

"I was hoping the voice would go first." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ok. What's wrong with you?" She glared at him, pulling her arms away. He turned around finally, fast enough to make her back a step away warily.

"Nothing. I'm just standing here wondering what's wrong with everyone else in this room. Slytherins are supposed to be intelligent, we'd all be ravenclaws if we didn't have a sense of humour and a lot more cunning."

Pansy scoffed. "Yeah, Crabbe and Goyle certainly were Ravenclaws in their past life."

"Don't leave yourself out, Pansy dear, the kettle and the pot might need a wet rag to keep their nozzles polished up." He snarled and charged past her looking about the room in disgust. He hadn't heard a single body hit the ground, it wasn't as if this was a boring old stunning hex either, they should have dropped like a load of bricks if they were doing it even slightly right.

Behind him Pansy was only just registering how insulted she should be, but Draco liked to hear his own voice when he was feeling self righteous and she had no chance to bite back.

"Since when was slytherin just another term for a demented hufflepuff? If I wanted the AK made up of loyal badgers who'd sooner trip over a stick than wave their wand without dropping it," he glared at Crabbe, "I would have asked Potter if he had spare time between twitching and talking to himself."

A strange sound emitted from the congregated mass of slytherins, somewhere between a snigger, choke and gasp of insult.

Malcom Baddock glared at him, his gang of third year slytherins stood around him smirking as he began to mouth off. "We heard Potter could teach you a few things himself Malfoy."

Draco stopped talking mid-tirade and turned to the young slytherin. A tight grin split his face and it was anything but pleasant. Crabbe and Goyle immediately shuffled to his side, flexing their muscles dangerously behind him. Draco didn't immediately say something, his eyes glittered as if he had been waiting for such an interruption—

"Potter could never take me in a fair dual. He's so mentally unhinged that you can't even have a civil conversation without him whipping out his wand like the dementors are coming for him." Draco pulled a face and shook all over as if he was hit by a sudden frenzy. The group laughed, enjoying as they always did Draco's particular talent for cruel mockery. "What can I say? If I want to deal with crazy people I'll go visit Longbottom's parents in St Mungos." The room echoed with laughter and anticipation, anticipation that Malcom was too young to recognise.

Pansy looked at Draco appealingly as she clutched the roll of members to her chest. They didn't need this…

"You talk a lot Malfoy. Nott says you're all talk."

"Does he now?" Draco smiled over his shoulder at Vincent as he pulled his wand from his sleeve. Malcom's friends took a step backwards. Everyone else in the room was shuffling slowly to the side behind him.

"He says the reason why I can't get these hexes quite right is that you can't even do them yourself." Malcom chuckled and looked around at the slytherins surrounding him. "You couldn't curse the hair off a clabbert." (1)

"Thankyou Malcom."

The younger boys face screwed up into an ugly pout of confusion. "Huh?"

"For volunteering."

Draco pointed his wand. The wizards in the room scuttled to the side.

"What are—"

"_Crucio." _Draco muttered, boredly.

Instantly Malcom's body went into violent convulsions, his twitching body fell in a heap to the ground and Draco nodded to himself. That's the sound he should have been hearing for the last twenty minutes. Malcom started to sputter, incoherent words tumbled from his mouth, his hands opened and closed then began to claw at his own skin. He was breathing heavily, but his pride would soon die and the wailing would start. Sure enough within seconds he was screaming. Screaming and clawing, screaming and clawing.

Crabbe and Goyle covered their ears, grimacing at the horrible sound.

Draco looked about the room. "See this is why the silencing charms were necessary, I could always mute him I guess but it would completely lose its effect if I did," he began conversationally. "And the reason dear Malcom you haven't cast these hexes properly is because you have a high level of squib in you."

"ARGHHHHH!"

"Shhh Malcom, I'm trying to teach the class. I thought you wanted to be helpful?" Draco took a step closer and Malcom gasped out as the hex increased in ferocity, his blood felt like it was boiling, melting his veins until he was bleeding out everywhere. "Notice how his eyes are getting a little blood shot, that's because his capillaries are breaking down. If I do this long enough he'll go insane, or he'll die. Let's see shall we?"

"PlleaARggease—stop!"

"Let's think, could I use a squib? Hmmm…."

"ARRGHHHH!" His legs kicked out, his body convulsed.

"Hmmm…"

"Draco, you'll kill him." Pansy said nervously.

"Ah, I have it." Draco lifted his wand and removed the curse. Instantly Malcom's writhing body stilled and slumped into a foetal position. His friends didn't dare to help or even stare down at his sweating body – they all looked at Draco who was grinning mildly at them.

"Any questions?"

The question was met with vigorous shaking of little cronie heads. Draco's ego swelled with delight, his Father's remonstrations incinerated at the back of his mind just like his blasted letter.

"Now you…" Draco pointed his wand at Malcom again. The boy instantly flinched, his hands moving up to cover his splotchy face. "Don't go all Potter on me, I'd hate to have to draw a poncy scar on your head and start worshiping you." He lowered his wand to his side and smirked. "I have a special job just for you my squibish friend."

"Yes…of course…" Malcom crawled to his knees, trembling. He looked up at Draco trying to smile confidently.

From a pocket inside his robe he pulled out a small potion vial, filled with a swirling orange liquid. He offered Malcom the vial but just when the younger boys hand touched it, the potion was withdrawn.

"If you fail…we'll try this little demonstration again."

"Y-yes, Draco."

Draco again pulled the potion away from him. "What was that?"

"Yes, S-Sir."

"Better."

"Now…do you know the way to the kitchens?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I don't know about this." Hermione bit her lip nervously, a noticeable flush to her cheeks.

"It'll be quick." Ron said breathlessly back.

"No, I don't think we should rush—" she touched his arm, "I just don't….I'm being stupid."

"Hermione." Ron tilted her chin up. "Shut up."

He turned away from her and knocked on the door in front of them twice. Her eyes had narrowed rather dangerously but all she did was cross her arms over her chest and hold her head up indignantly.

The door opened quickly. "'Allo there, what are you doin' down 'ere this time of day?" Hagrid beamed, he didn't look upset about their surprise visit at all. "Well come in, come in – no sense lettin' the cold air in, eh?" His sizable body shifted to the side and let both of his younger friends dart around him.

He turned to the large copper kettle and immediately poured them both a cup of tea (it looked more like a blacker version of polyjuice potion to Hermione). She marvelled at Ron's bravery when he took a sip, grinning through a grimace at her. She smiled tentatively back.

"I'm glad you stopped by, I wanted to tell you 'bout Grawp—"

"Hagrid!" Hermione said with a trace of panic, "I mean Hagrid, we can't stay long, we just needed to talk to you." She coughed, blushing slightly at her rudeness. She might think Hagrid was harmless, but she was terrified of his half brother no matter how many times he tried to tell her that Grawp loved 'Hermy'.

"Oh. What's tha' then?"

"Um…" she looked at Ron.

Ron glared at her and took another sip. She rolled her eyes; well, if he'd rather drink tar….

"It's about, Harry."

Hagrid sighed and put his own bowl of tea down.

"What about 'arry?"

"We want to stage an intervention." She said with a nod.

"_Hermione, _wants to stage an intervention." Ron amended.

"A what?" Hagrid said, blinking his beetle-black eyes in confusion. One ham like hand rose to play with his beard.

"An intervention. It's when friends get together to um…address their concerns." Hermione went on.

Hagrid looked to Ron for a translation.

"It's when friends get together to tell their pal everything that sucks about him."

"Ron!"

"What? It's true." He shrugged; her glare made him take another hacking sip of his tea.

Hagrid shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that Her-mione, Harry just needs a bit'a time tha's all." He smiled sadly. "Sirius was a good man. Good dog too, but a better man."

"He doesn't need time, he doesn't have time." She said in exasperation. "He needs a kick in the backside! What he did to Malfoy was…." She bit the words off; she was starting to sound hysterical. When they looked up at her in surprise, she sighed. She was being dramatic, but she'd been on edge for a week now. "I'm sorry…"

"S'allright." Hagrid grinned tremulously. "Have a cake." He trudged heavily across his hut and removed a large rock cake from a bin in his cupboard. He slammed it down on the table in front of her. Ron covered his teacup to stop it shaking.

"Um…no, I don't want to spoil my lunch."

Smooth, Ron thought.

"Somethin' the matter, Hermione?" Hagrid asked.

"Well yes, I'm really concerned about Harry. He should have…I know it sounds trite, but he should have snapped out of it by now. I'm concerned because he's having nightmares," she looked to Ron, "bad ones and I don't know if that means You-Know-Who could still effect him. There is no recorded case quite like Harry's, I tried to read up on it…I don't know what to do to help him and I feel so stupid! You should have seen what he did to Malfoy; I've never seen him so…so…"

"Violent?" Ron said helpfully.

"Out of control." She said sadly. "Hagrid, you were the first person Harry ever became friends with. You have to help us. We want our friend back."

Hagrid smiled slightly with pride. Hermione gazed into his eyes solemnly.

"He's pulling away from us and I think it's…I don't think he's going psychotic like some people," she glared at Ron, "I think he's protecting us."

"What from?" Hagrid's brogue made him sound even more confused.

"Sirius is dead. His parents are dead. Ron has been…" she looked to the scars on his arms, he covered them self consciously, "scarred forever, I was…nearly killed. You-know-who tricked him into losing someone, maybe more than someone…who's to say he couldn't do it again?"

"Don't think like that Hermione, don't you think it—"

"I'm not saying he didn't learn, I'm not, nor am I saying it's his fault but…but why would Harry take the risk? Don't you see? He's pushing us away! He's trying not to care. So You-Know-Who can't use us…" Hermione's eyes were wide in her face; sad. She looked across at Ron, whose face was strangely blank – eyes fixed on her face.

"Mione, you think too much." Ron said tenderly, shaking his head with affection.

"I think we should tell Harry that no matter how much he tries it's not going to work. It's our choice, of course we'll stand by him, it's not his fault…" she breathed in deeply, "we can't let him keep losing control. Like he did with Malfoy."

"Let up with Malfoy." Ron said. "From what I hear Harry was not the only one who took out his anger on the snarky git last week."

Hermione flushed, casting an embarrassed look in Hagrid's direction.

"Um…lunch time!" She stood up briskly, brushing down imaginary wrinkles in her robes. "Um…best be off." She smiled. "Think about it Hagrid, we could bring Harry down and have a little chat." Why did she need to get outside so badly? She couldn't breathe, but that wasn't it…

"Perhaps I could take him down to see Grawp – he's gettin' along quite well now." Hagrid beamed proudly.

"Perhaps."

Ron followed Hermione with a lazy stride, closing the door behind them. Instantly the mood between them matched the temperature of the snow crunching beneath their feet. She glared at him, whipping her head around for full effect.

"What?"

"Did you have to bring up Malfoy?"

"You're the one who mentions him every five seconds." Ron snarled.

"I'm concerned!" She pulled her wand viciously from her pocket and began steaming a path in the snow for them. Immediately she knew she shouldn't have used those words.

"Oh, well that's perfectly normal. Save your concern for Harry like you normally do." The bitterness at the end of that statement made Hermione stare across at his clenched profile. He continued to walk briskly, but never fast enough to lose her – she was powering the charm that was clearing their path after all. She could see his breath shimmering in a white cloud before his face. His cheeks were flushed a red more vibrant than his hair. For some strange reason she felt guilty.

"I shouldn't have been so careless."

"Let it go! You made him cry, big deal! I plan on making him cry when Quidditch starts again, I'm looking forward to it. Why do you care so much?"

"I don't care but, Ron, he was bleeding from his eyes and...it was my fault, not that I cast a charm or anything but I shouldn't have even—"

"It could have been a trick of the light."

"It wasn't! Do you think I'm dumb enough to fall for that excuse? I don't brush away my mistakes!"

Something felt horribly sticky inside Ron's chest. He remembered all those nights he'd let Harry suffer alone, he remembered all those times he couldn't apologize after he'd been such a git to his mate in fourth year. He remembered every argument with Hermione, the yule ball, the words sticking…

"Are you saying I do?"

"No, but stop patronising me by ignoring the fact that this is serious!" Her eyes were dangerous.

In truth it wasn't brushing away the problem that was irritating her. For a week she'd been in a constant state of panic. It was like that time in first year when Draco had known about Hagrid's dragon. He'd kept the secret, not disclosing it, waiting for the perfect time to let it slip. He was a Slytherin to the core and she was terrified of those looks he had given her in that alley. When he'd let his grip slip from her wrist and his face contorted to a strange awareness, mouth pulled into mirthless amusement. She'd been sure – when she'd finally reached her dorm and locked Sparky away – that he'd known. He knew. And he would somehow use that knowledge to hurt her. Lucius Malfoy was out of prison; Draco's clout had returned in the powerful oak of his father, the very father who'd had Buckbeak sentenced to death for making his son bleed.

She hated herself for taking out her panic on Ron.

"Why are we fighting?" The fatigue in her voice punctured his anger. She started climbing the steps toward the entrance hall.

"It's what we do." He said, teasing her. She frowned at him disapprovingly, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling again. His heart skipped.

When they entered the Great Hall they were grinning at each other (their friendship could swing from boiling anger to jubilant laughter in the space of fifty seconds – she'd timed it once). That grin spread even wider when they noticed who was sitting at the end of Gryffindor table. Sure, only Neville was sitting with him (desperately trying to engage him in conversation while other Gryffindors slid far, far away) but it was a start. He hadn't been there for days, weeks…she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him. She was filled with an impulsive happiness and gripped Ron's hand, giving it the slightest squeeze. He stiffened beside her but didn't pull away.

"Harry!" She beamed, dragging Ron quickly behind her. She sat beside him and let Ron's hand go so that he could sit across from them with Neville. "How are you?"

His jaw clenched at the question but he looked up and gave her a patient smile. "Good."

Hermione opened her mouth but…she had nothing. She couldn't think of a single thing to say. _Oh God what a terrible friend am I…oh God…_

"We've just been down to see Hagrid, he says Grawp's missing you." Ron's eyes sparked mischievously.

Harry snorted, throwing down the fork he'd been toying with over his lunch. Hermione's eyes fell immediately to his plate. It looked like he'd been mainly pushing the pieces of sausage around, though he had eaten some.

"So what made you decide to have lunch with us?" Hermione asked too cheerily. She stiffened her shoulders to prevent a flinch. Stupid mouth.

"I'm expecting an Owl."

"Oh?" Hermione reached for the pumpkin juice and poured herself a glass. "Who from?"

Ron tried to kick her under the table.

"Ow!" Harry said, but the glare turned into amusement when he saw Ron's face flush.

"Sorry mate. Um, I have a twinge in my knee."

"He's been twitching all day." Hermione said archly, grinning triumphantly at Ron.

They all laughed except Harry, who smiled softly. His hands gripped the inside of his elbows, stroking softly against a sudden shiver.

"Snape." He said.

"What about Snape?" Neville asked, clearly confused about what question Harry was answering.

"Why would Snape send you an Owl?" Hermione asked.

"Why would you want it?" Ron asked.

"I'd try to kick you under the table but I rather think I have more sense." Hermione lifted her chin toward Ron.

Harry was glad that they never left each other alone. They didn't even seem to notice that he never answered their questions. It's like he was there to be a filter for their banter. Another reason to tease. He felt so tired.

"Harry…" Neville asked tentatively. "I was wondering if you were planning on starting up the DA again?"

The silence that followed was horrible. Neville flushed, unsure what he'd said. He'd never been on the end of Harry's fiercest glare before. Hermione was trying to hide her curiosity about the question; Ron was loading his plate with food pretending he hadn't heard. The noise of the room around them continued, but it was all a white buzz. Harry swallowed.

"No," was all he said. He tried to soften his face, even smile, but he looked so brittle and pale that Neville felt guilty. No one asked him to elaborate.

Excuses flittered through Hermione's mind. Professor Finnish was an excellent DADA teacher and had so far shown no sign of evil tendencies (crossed fingers), he didn't have time, the secret group had been exposed, they couldn't trust all of the members…but she was disappointed by his response.

"Hermione!" A cheery voice called. Hermione turned her head when she heard heavy footsteps running in her direction. There was Ginny Weasley, her eyes flashing with that famous Weasley mischief. Oh no…not again.

"Hi…" she said warily, noting the envelope in her hands. Behind Ginny she could see Dean Thomas arching his head toward them, when he noticed her gaze he turned back to his lunch. Only then did she take notice of Colin, hovering behind Ginny. He was blushing. Not a good sign.

"Hi, Colin."

"Hegh…I mean Hi, Hermione, sorry to interrupt – Hello Harry! You're looking well today, I meant to tell you about this new magazine I saw the other day in Hogsmeade it's called Seek and—"

"Er…thanks Colin but I—"

"I bought you some copies, they're up in my dorm would you like to see them? Dennis!" He shouted over his shoulder.

"No, Colin it's ok—"

But they'd already run off together.

Hermione was still holding her glass of pumpkin juice, she'd been too distracted to even take a sip and now her stomach was plummeting. Ginny had sat next to her, casting a conspiratorial wink her way. Hermione had managed not to look nervously across the room but she suddenly felt self-conscious, like someone was staring back.

"Colin finally got them developed." She giggled, nudging Hermione in the shoulder. "I saved them so we could look together."

"Look! No, put them away…" Hermione shoved the photos away as if they were contaminated. Ginny snorted.

"C'mon Hermione, how many times have you seen an evil strip tease?"

"I haven't seen a regular strip tease, what's the difference?"

"Much more leather and props." Ginny grinned.

Hermione strained out a laugh. So that's what a strangled goose sounds like? she thought. Props?

"What are those?" Ron asked, flicking a suspicious glance between his sister and his best friend.

"Oh, you want to see?" Ginny gave him an innocent look and picked the photos up to pass them—

"No!" Hermione snatched them back.

Ron frowned.

"Er…I want to see them first." She blushed.

"What are they?"

"We tried on a whole bunch of dresses for the Winter Festival and took photos. Do you want to help us decide which colours work better with our accessories?" Ginny opened her eyes widely, smiled her sweetest most boring smile…Ron was predictable.

"So Harry have you reconsidered quidditch?" He turned away.

"Easy." Ginny said with a smug look. "Don't worry Hermione, he didn't take off his robes and I only set the camera to go through one layer. Your pure, white innocence will feel not a single flicker of jade." All this whispering about a naked enemy felt horribly indecent and Hermione knew her face was not going to regain its natural pallor any time soon.

"You said you didn't look." Hermione said between her teeth.

"Pfft. Of course I looked." Ginny reached out for Hermione's glass and took a sip from it. "The best part is his bored expression; one of them must be a lousy shag and I'm hoping it's him." She laughed. "Rumours of his sex drive have been greatly exaggerated probably by himself."

"Ginny, I'm really not interested in Malfoy's sex drive."

"Well if you don't want to see them, I'll show Susan, I'm sure she'll—"

Hermione snatched the envelope of photos out of Ginny's hands and shoved them into her robes. "You can't go flashing them about. The whole reason you got them in the first place was to get Dean's sketch book back. You'll lose your leverage if you show them to everyone."

"You're right." Ginny grumbled. "But revenge was part of it too. It works both ways. Malfoy already showed half the school my ass, what does it matter if I get the sketch back?" But Ginny sighed and slumped forward. "Everyone but me anyway." She whispered softly.

Hermione watched as Ginny's head turned slightly, staring down the table. She didn't need to turn around to know who her friend was watching. Hermione was wise enough to say nothing. Any awkwardness ensuing by that moment was concealed by the arrival of a few owls.

Late mail.

Expectation pinched in Hermione's stomach and she remembered the stress of the week. It was harder not to look across at the Slytherin table now. She'd been desperately awaiting Viktor's response. She hoped the howler she sent him hadn't been too embarrassing, but she was frightened and—

"Oh…" her hands shook as an owl swooped in their direction, but it didn't drop anything in her lap. Instead it swooped toward Harry, dropping a tightly rolled parchment straight into the yolk of his fried egg.

He grimaced and wiped the sticky yellow substance from the bottom.

Hermione was about to say 'that's why you should always eat your lunch' but stopped when a letter dropped in front of her. She looked up to see a barn owl swooping over head.

Ginny coughed loudly beside her and Hermione absently patted her back, passing her pumpkin juice over to quell the itch in her throat.

"It's from Viktor, thank God!" She clutched the parchment to her chest, smiling with relief.

Ron mumbled something under his breath but she was too excited to even bother asking for him to repeat himself. Harry was likewise distracted, reading his parchment. Over and over again.

_7.30pm, tomorrow._

_Don't waste my time._

It didn't indicate who it was from or where to meet, but was any of that really necessary? Harry wouldn't have bothered pretending Snape deserved to be addressed like a person either.

He folded the letter and placed it in his robes without comment. But in order to avoid questions he dug into his lunch with new enthusiasm, even going so far as to smile spontaneously at Ron's frown on the other side of the table.

"Somethin' wrong?" Harry asked.

"_Vicky. _What does she see in that guy anyway?" Ron snarled.

"Champion quidditch player, kind of a nice guy, lots of money, thought she was pretty, writes long owls—"

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry found a peculiar kind of joy in seeing Ron like this. He'd always had a suspicion Ron liked Hermione and it was amusing that Ron himself didn't seem aware of it.

They both looked across at Hermione who was reading through her owl with fierce concentration. One hand held the letter steady, the other drummed nervous fingers across her bottom lip, there was a wrinkle between her eyebrows growing deeper by the second.

"This can't be right…" She said and grunted with frustration.

"All right, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ginny was coughing louder again but Hermione didn't try to calm her down this time. Instead she flicked her gaze to Harry, not even noticing that his green eyes weren't hard this time but concerned.

"Viktor! I specifically asked him to give me every single charm he put on that necklace and…is everyone incompetent?" She made a noise of frustration, "It's not that difficult, he should have just sent me the receipt from the jewellers charm specialist! I don't understand how he could leave something out!"

"Maybe he didn't." Harry said, agreeing silently that it would be odd. Especially in consideration of how much Viktor desired Hermione's approval.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. He disappointed me completely when I met him." Ron tried to be blasé, but it didn't work. Hermione clenched the owl in her fist and glared at him over the top. "I'm just agreeing with you!"

"Don't."

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Neville asked. "I thought you liked that necklace."

"How do you—" She started.

"Well Ginny said that…Ginny?" Neville leaned over the table slightly, forgetting about Hermione. "Ginny?"

Hermione quickly stood from the table, her mind was narrowing down to a single task, destination in sight. She hurried from the Great Hall turning left without a single look behind her. If these were the only charms Viktor had used (and they were harmless) there had to be something else that had set off the reaction. But what was it? Though she was frustrated at her ignorance, a balloon of relief was blowing up inside her gut. She felt spectacularly self righteous, if Viktor was right, it hadn't been her fault at all.

Ginny fell against the table, coughing with a desperation that was beginning to frighten her friends. She clutched at her chest muttering what sounded like "I'm burning…" but it was hard to tell through her wheezing.

"Ginny?" Harry joined in Neville's cry. He slid into Hermione's spot and placed his hands on Ginny's heaving back, rubbing up and down, patting her occasionally. The heaving didn't stop.

"Gin…" Ron stood from his seat, he reached across the table, brushing her hair from around her face to feel her forehead. His mouth dropped open, she was burning up alarmingly.

"What's going on?" Dean. Panting heavily in Ron's ear.

"What do you want?" Ron snapped using his anger to burn away the fear. He removed his hand from his sisters sweltering forehead and used it to shove Dean away.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean said fiercely.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice was soft. "What can I do? Do you want a drink?" He held her half-finished glass of pumpkin juice toward her face. She shook her head desperately and shoved the glass away. Harry didn't remove his hand, he could feel warmth beginning to build beneath it that didn't feel natural at all. Sickness didn't come on this fast, she wouldn't be burning up if she was merely choking on something she ate….he offered her the pumpkin juice again and she shook her head fervently.

"N-o."

Harry looked at the glass suspiciously.

"She doesn't need you! Just go away, you've hurt her enough!" Ron was screaming.

"I'm not worried about what you think, Weasley!" Dean shoved him in the chest.

Ginny's coughing attack finally petered out. She was clenching the table in her hand. She knew she'd started crying, she hadn't been able to breathe for a while there, her chest had felt horribly tight, like a fire had sucked all oxygen from her lungs. She could feel the dampness on her cheeks and sniffled, brushing tears away. The juice had probably just gone down the wrong way. For a while she'd thought she was poisoned but it wouldn't have worn off this quickly. She laughed tremulously.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, his hand was shaking on her back. The glass of pumpkin juice was held tightly within his grasp; he sniffed it suspiciously.

"Y-es…I'm fine."

She looked up at him and the glass slipped from his fingers crashing to the ground. All attention was drawn away from the argument between Ron and Dean for a beat; silence descended. It quickly ended. Murmuring immediately picked up again but thankfully she was so far away that most of them couldn't see what Harry could.

"Gin…." He gasped.

"Harry, am I that splotchy?" She wiped at her cheeks again, confused by Harry reeling back from her.

"She's fine, you can go back now!" Ron snarled.

"JUST SHUT UP!" Harry snapped in his friends' direction. It was only then that Ron noticed.

"Merlin! Ginny!" He ran around the side of the table. "Just close your eyes, it'll be okay."

"Let's get her to the hospital wing." Harry said in full command mode.

And Ginny wasn't confused by the request because she'd finally looked down at her hands, those hands that had swiped her face. She screamed without restraint, her Weasley strength pouring terror out of her without inhibition.

"Ron!" She said, swiping at her face desperately, and she was gulping, gulping down the tears. The taste was metallic, unnatural, nothing like the saltiness of tears and it made her breathing difficulties return. She was hyperventilating within moments. She was sure she was going to die. Was she poisoned? Oh no, not like this... "Ron…" She couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop and she wasn't sad, there was no reason for her to keep sobbing, no reason to be crying. She wasn't crying at all, it was just streaming from her. So dark, so red….

"Help me." They pulled her from her seat, all four of the boys around her, and dragged her toward the hospital wing.

The room had become silent at her scream, Albus Dumbledore had stood in his seat. He motioned for Minerva McGonagall to follow them while he restored order.

And across the room Malcom Baddock looked toward Draco Malfoy, palpable fear coiling like a snake around his spine.

"Close enough." Draco said with a smile but his eyes turned toward the door where the real target had gone. He folded the napkin across his lap and placed it beside his plate. "I have business." He whispered to Pansy, kissing her distractedly on the cheek.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him from moving.

"What now?" He whined. She pulled him down beside her.

"I don't like this."

"Don't you care about what she did to me?" He hissed.

"Of course I do," her hands moved to frame his face but he flinched away from the public show of affection, scowling at her. "We have more important things to worry about." She gestured with her head toward Nott and Zabini at the other end of the table. "And…" she breathed in deeply, not having the strength to meet his cold eyes. "I don't like it when you're fixated on other girls."

Draco stilled. His silence, the fierce way he straightened his spine reminded her of a wild animal poised to strike. His hand cupped her cheek but there was no tenderness in the gesture, she could feel his nails bite into her cheek as he forced her gaze up to meet his. She gasped out at the anger she saw there, and more importantly the disgust.

"If you value your place in my heart you will not say something like that to me again."

He was gone, moving swiftly like a shark swiping prey from the surface of an ocean. He moved on fierce angles and he barely made a sound. She watched him storm away from her, breathing was an impossibility. She'd never been scared of Draco before. Across from her Vincent and Greggory were chortling with laughter. She raised her wand to hex their mouths shut and they almost tripped over themselves running after Draco.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_O – Temperature Stability Charm _

_O – Threat Counteractive Charm (instigated by a Cardius Crainte trigger spell)_

_O – Endophinus Charm_

_O – Soaked in a Bonheurius Draft._

These four different types of magic were used on most basic protective talismans. Hermione knew this as Viktor had assured her the spells were standard. But he'd also said they were not dangerous. Unfortunately he hadn't been specific about which temperature stability charm and threat counteractive charms he'd used and she needed to work out all of the variables. Perhaps the spells clashed and caused a violent reaction. Only research would be able to answer her niggling doubts. That is why she found herself walking about the library pulling books briskly from the shelves. She already had six waiting for her at her favourite desk.

It shouldn't matter what Temperature Stability Charm he used (but just to be sure _Witch Your Weather _and_ Charming Seasons _were added to the pile). All Temperature regulation charms worked in similar ways to stabilise the body against extreme weather. Some only protected against Winter, others against the extremes of Summer heat. Some did both. It didn't matter because either way that charm was only a modulator.

The threat-counteractive charm could have caused the damage depending on how fierce it was. She had started to get irrationally panicked and that was when Sparky started to crawl around her chest. The Cardius Crainte spell, Hermione knew had something to do with the heart. Her educated guess would be that a threat was deduced from her increase in heart rate, but that would be dangerous because the heart can increase for other reasons. She nibbled her lip in thought, best to be sure.

She didn't know what the Endophinus Charm or the Bonheurius Draft was. Would it have killed Viktor to include footnotes? Yes. He probably knew she'd research everything anyway and he was probably upset with her for calling him a Bulgarian Bludger Brain. She winced. She tended to resort to alliteration when she was angry and he had sort of deserved that howler for not warning her that Sparky liked to make little boys cry…blood.

She was just pulling_ 1001 Charms_ from the shelf when something cold and fierce swiped under her legs.

"Ahhh!" She squealed tumbling to the floor in a heap of robes and books. She laid there dazed for a moment not even aware that she had dropped Viktor's owl.

"Tripping hex." A voice said cheerily above her.

She looked up and stiffened. Here was the boy she'd been avoiding for a week (even if that meant running like a crazy woman down the hall when she caught a glimpse of platinum hair). He was standing there, blond hair draping down into his pale blue eyes and imperious nose somehow tilted up even as he looked down on her. The long length of a black wand was pointed at her face. To distract herself she became conscious of the books she was lying on top of. She knew it was irrational – he'd hardly think she was researching her own necklace. And anyway, he might not even know it was her, he was blind at the time. She sucked in a breath, she couldn't focus on the books, his wand was right there and she was unprepared. To her surprised he lowered his wand slightly. She scrambled to her feet.

It took her a while to regain her footing because he didn't move when she stood up. She was forced to stumble backwards over_ 1001 Charms_ if she wanted more than an inch of space between them.

Finally, breathing hard, she tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Yes, Malfoy?" She hissed.

"It's a bit late for dignity, isn't it? And don't worry, that fall didn't score a 0, I did give you two points for the highly amusing factor." He grinned coldly, eyes glittering over her flushed face. "Such… grace under pressure."

"Excuse me, I have work to do." She would just ignore him. He hadn't said anything yet, he was just staring at her in an alarmingly evil way. But he always did that. Just shrug it off, he's just being an immature twit playing at school-bully.

She quickly piled the books up that she hadn't yet put on her desk (five in all) and stood back to her feet. It was only when she went to move past him that she noticed the scrap of paper on his foot. She gasped, annoyed that her hands were full of books. Unwilling to do any more damage to them, she bent back down quickly to place them on the floor, then made a dart for the scrap of paper—

"_Accio." _Draco drawled and it flew up into his hands.

"Dammit."_ Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She should never have made out like it was important. He wouldn't even find it interesting unless she wanted it.

On her knees she looked up at his face and he looked down at her. Quite intentionally he took a step closer and his height seemed to double, the air seemed to constrict and his groin was humiliatingly close to her face. Oh why did she have to be kneeling? Hermione felt like forcing her hips to sink past her knees and keep going through the floor. His eyes shimmered icy, pale blue. Matched with the smirk on his mouth she just knew he was going to say something horrible. He was close enough to her face for her mind to be in exactly the same place and it was no place she wanted it to be.

"Are you going to stand up or do you like being in front of me on your knees?" He asked.

She blushed furiously; remembering the envelope in her pocket only made it worse. As she stood up he finally flicked his eyes over the piece of paper in his hand. On her feet, she stiffened, expecting the worst. No one was more shocked than Hermione when Draco Malfoy burst into spontaneous (and rather loud) laughter.

At first she was stunned…_what the? _Then she remembered he was slightly demented and only became worried that he'd get her thrown out.

"Shut up!" She moved to snatch the owl from his hand but he shifted too quickly pulling it behind his head. Clumsily she ran into his chest; she darted back like he'd elbowed her in the stomach and his laughter became mirthless. They did not like touching each other.

"What's so funny, ferret?"

"My delightful little beaver, I'm just amazed at how much I amuse myself."

"Aren't we all?" She mumbled.

"All this time I was thinking what a nasty little hex you pulled off. Why, I almost admired you for how utterly horrid it was to experience. So close to being Dark magic…" He chuckled again, and his eyes ran over the crinkles in her forehead as if she was a marvel he'd never beheld before. The humour drained from his face as if it had been smashed clean by an anvil. "I should have known a mudblood like you could never pull off wandless magic. It wasn't you at all but some necklace." He laughed again and she finally understood the reason for his amusement. He'd actually given her credit, something he'd never done before.

Hermione's hand clenched in the sleeve of her robe, it was only then that she noticed her wand had slipped from its usual hiding place. She tensed but didn't show anything to him in her facial expression. Without moving her head, she tried to flick her eyes around the ground, searching it out. No sign of it. Damn.

"I'm so ashamed that I almost respected you. And this list of instructions…" He chuckled again. "No witch in her right mind would ever wear a charm when she didn't understand its purpose. But then…you're not a real witch are you, Granger?"

"I'm a better witch than you're a wizard."

"You better hope you aim your wand better than your tongue…because the charm that so luckily saved your filthy little head is nothing in comparison to what I'm planning on doing to you."

"You're all talk. You have your wand, do your worst." She tilted her chin at him challengingly and he inclined his head, twirling her piece of paper in his pale hands.

Her eyes darted to the piece of paper before shifting back to his. Draco had noticed her preoccupation with his possession of her precious list, if she wanted his best...he slipped the piece of parchment into his robes and smiled.

"How's that?"

"You ca—" She stopped herself from stamping her foot only through an extreme force of will. "I'll make a deal with you." Her voice only barely managed to escape through her gritted teeth.

He scoffed. "I didn't expect you to start begging me so soon, we haven't even started."

She ignored him; she'd never be scared of his ability as a wizard, only his mouth and the knowledge he had.

"I'll give you the film. Isn't that what you want?"

He watched her with interest but said nothing. Her desperation was interesting considering she could get her precious Krum to send out the list again but he wasn't about to point that out to her.

"The Weaslette doesn't want her precious pornography back? Or did she finally reconcile herself to that illustrious profession? It is the oldest profession in the world, so at least she has respect for tradition. It can be quite lucrative too with a mouth like hers. A step up from the Weasel farm, I have to commend her."

Hermione didn't give him the pleasure of taking a bite out of his bait. She didn't want to spend any more time around him than absolutely necessary.

"Listen you selfish snipe, I have the photos with me. I'll give you them for the sketch you have of Ginny, but I'll only give you the negatives if you give me my owl."

"That's not a fair trade."

"Don't give me—"

"Why should I care if people see me making love to my betrothed?"

"Love!" she scoffed incredulously, "you call groping her behind the five-knut rack love?"

"It doesn't matter where you do it if you do it properly," he grinned lecherously and her skin crawled.

"I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate his son's reputation being completely—"

Draco's wand whipped up and under her chin so fast that she stopped speaking in astonishment. Her eyes couldn't even seek out her own wand in her surprise. She'd never seen him move his wand so fast. And now she was meeting his eyes, unable to look away.

"Don't. Ever. Mention my father. It offends me to hear you talk about him."

"Sorry to shake your fragile sensibilities."

Hermione hissed as Draco's wand sent out a slight spark, burning the skin on her neck in a neat, red circle. She tried to retreat away from the pressure of his wand against her skin but he merely followed her. She stopped her retreat, the last thing she wanted was to end up in the middle of the aisle, with little chance of escape and further away from her wand than she ever wanted to be.

He grinned. "Now…your attack on me…that would be much more damaging to your reputation."

Her eyes widened.

"That head girl badge would just…float away….I can just hear McGoobagall now… _I am so disappointed in you, Miss Granger. I thought you were my best student but you have turned out very bad, very bad indeed. Imagine, using dark magic on a fellow prefect, oh if my sense of humour hadn't died a century ago!_" He cackled at his cruel imitation alone. The wand tip twisted against her skin for impact before he finally pulled it away. Her heart was pounding and she opened her mouth thoughtlessly—

"Nobody would believe you, there's nothing dangerous about that charm. Nothing that causes haemorrhaging! You're just so weak you can't take a stunning hex head on!"

"Bitch!" He raised his wand but didn't utter the words that burned darkly in his eyes.

Her eyes showed only disdain, he could hardly do any damage in a place so public. Anything he said about her hex would then be taken as complete and utter mendacity.

He tilted his head, eyes taking in her defiance with an equal and opposing measure of disdain.

"You have your deal." He said tightly.

She looked at him suspiciously – why had he given in so quickly? Paranoia raised prickles on the back of her neck. Hermione nodded her head.

"The photos," He put out his hand.

Hermione scoffed. "The sketchpad first."

"I don't have that in my possession."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Goyle…" Draco said and Hermione flinched in surprise when the thug in question tramped up behind her. Crabbe appeared simultaneously from behind Malfoy. Hermione became aware of how boxed in she was, by people who would heartily enjoy seeing her corpse.

Draco smirked at her obvious fear (made apparent by how quickly she'd blanked her emotions from all of her face but her eyes).

He moved his eyes from hers to somewhere over her shoulder, "I leant you the Weasel porn didn't I, Greg?"

Crabbe grinned over Malfoy's shoulder and Hermione grimaced with disgust. Greggory Goyle was nodding so eagerly behind her that she could feel it. She took a step toward Draco all the while glaring in between his perfectly clipped eyebrows. This was information she would not be passing on to Ginny Weasley.

"You didn't leave it in the bathroom did you?" Draco continued, uncaring of her disgust.

She heard Goyle fumbling with his pockets and then he shoved her aside, holding out a sticky looking wad of paper to Draco. Hermione darted forward and attempted to snatch it from Goyle's hand. He was much stronger than her and didn't let go. The tug of war was so poorly matched that he ended up dragging Hermione for a metre before Draco chuckled and said, "just give it to her, Goyle."

Breathing heavily she pulled the sketchpad close to her chest and glared haughtily at the wizard variation of a bludgeoned troll. When she started to think about why the sketchpad was sticky she held it less tightly.

"Happy mudblood? First me, now the Weaslette. You're a witch with such diverse taste and disgusting habits."

"I would relinquish these photos of you simply to part with them, no deal necessary. You should be glad you were so amicable or these photos would have been all over the school by tomorrow."

"Hand them over."

She retrieved the envelope from her pocket but didn't give it to him immediately. The negatives were inside. She opened it and pulled out the stack of photos. Desperately pretending she hadn't seen anything, she handed the stack to him.

"Like what you saw?" He intoned coolly, eyes measuring the embarrassment on her face with relish.

Crabbe was looking down at the first photo (Ginny's favourite) and he frowned. "I didn't know she could bend that way…"

Draco's head snapped to the side. Just when Hermione thought he was going to hex his friend, Draco smirked slightly and said, "Ballet." He and Crabbe shared a snort.

"Try not to pant so loudly in my ear." Draco continued.

"I'd like to test her out."

"Crabbe, under you the most elastic of girls would snap." They chuckled heartily.

"This is the woman you _love_? Merlin, I wonder how you treat the women you _hate_." Hermione hadn't realised she'd spoken out loud until Draco's eyes looked back in her direction, moving intimately over her face.

"Don't you know?" He said.

She blushed, swallowed and changed the subject.

"Hand over my owl."

He slipped the photos into his pocket. "I don't think I will."

"You can still tell everyone about my attack on you, that's enough for your twisted little games just give me the owl."

"Why do you want it so much?"

"Because it's mine, and it's from Viktor.." she tried to blush girlishly. It's what he wanted – her discomfit.

"Awww…poor ickle Gwanger wants her wittle wove wetter." Draco blinked his eyelashes and Crabbe and Goyle chuckled heartily.

"Give me the damn letter you bastard!"

Draco stopped laughing, no one insulted his heritage. "I'm charmed by your manners." He reached into his pocket, flicking her a folded piece of paper. "Enjoy your precious owl, mudblood! Academics are all you'll ever get from a wizard." Before she could respond he'd snatched the envelope and negatives from her hand. Then he shoulder barged past her and she darted out of the way before Crabbe could imitate him.

Her hard, brown eyes maintained a hawk-like vigilance of their backs until they were out of her sight. Only then did she open the owl again—

"_Dearest Draco,_

_I've noticed a certain tension between you and your pet pug, I don't suppose we could— _

"ARGHHH!" Hermione's hands fisted around the parchment, without even bothering to read on. She scrambled along the floor, fury pumping blood quickly through her veins. If Sparky was with her now she would not regret unleashing the fury. Beneath the stack of books she found what she was looking for and flicked the wand up into her grasp. Immediately she turned and trudged after them, hair whipping out behind her wildly, shoulders stiff with anger. But by the time she reached the main part of the library they had already gone.

"Blasted bugger and bastard!" She stamped her foot and glared, hoping Draco Malfoy felt the heat of it wherever he was.

TBC...

_1) A clabbert is a hairless creature found in J.K's 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. _

**Catelina**: To own the truth no one was supposed to really understand what was happening at the beginning of chapter six so I'm not very worried about that. It was meant to be disorientating, only to be understood in retrospect.

**QueenofIrony:**Thanks for the reminder, I'm sorry to keep you waiting.

**Lady Moofin:** I hope you enjoyed the Draco/Hermione scene but I'm sorry I won't be getting rid of Pansy any time soon. She's really important for the story and the eventual pairing. If it makes you feel better Draco does treat her appallingly.

**breeze3:** Original is a really big compliment, I'm not sure if it sticks to this story, but I'll try to keep you thinking that way hopefully.

**Rainmusic: **The nuzzling was strange but there was a reason for it. The clue is in the first part of the chapter where past and future were kind of bled into each other.

**lollylips3:** Hmmm, I don't agree with you about Draco, I never found him particularly brave or strong. He always fought with words until violence was inflicted on him in retaliation. Harry had to completely overpower Draco in that chapter (and it has happened before re: Order of the Phoenix) this is because he was absolutely furious and not a little bit crazed at the time. Draco didn't know what hit him. As for Hermione, it's very hard to get something out of someones hand if they don't want to give it to you. Now, I didn't mind the fact that you wanted Draco to stand up and fight and maybe even win their battles. That's only natural for a Dramione shipper. My one point of serious contention is that I've never ever alluded that Draco was stupid in my story. Far from it. He just takes his time to get revenge, and don't worry - he will.

**foxxglove:** Thanks so much for the detailed review :) blushesYeah, Dumbledore. I haven't reread that chapter since I posted it but I had read Order of the Phoenix before I wrote that so...whenever I read the last chapters of that book I always get really angry with Dumbledore so some of that probably leaked through. A couple of people pointed out the nuzzling, there is a clue at the beginnig of the chapter to help you understand Draco's delirium and why he said what he said to Hermione. I hope you're still reading :)

**Crystallized Snow:** Heehee I'm glad it's confusing - hehe You're not supposed to have caught up with me yet, as Hermione has no idea what she's in for and I'd like for you to be in the same position as she is.


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